Mission
by mystical-blaise
Summary: April Winchester's life was like any other seventeen-year olds until she found her grandmother's diary in the dark basement. After learning her secrets, her family would never be the same again.
1. The Best Of Times

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This fan fiction starts a week after "Lazarus Rising" and this chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear, Jamie, Happy Birthday to you!"

"Quick, blow out the candles before Dad does," April smiled at her younger brother, pushing her dad back playfully as he tried to get at the cake. He did that _every year._

Jamie thought about his wish for a minute, obviously spending the time to make it a really good one, and blew out his two number one candles. Was he really already eleven?

His family clapped around him as her mom turned on the lights, getting together the knife and plates. Jamie wanted the piece of cake, of course, in the center. Her mom just smiled and cut a huge chunk of it out , setting it down in front of him.

"Happy Birthday, sweetie," she smiled, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

"_Mom_," he smirked. "I'm getting a little old for the kisses. I'm eleven now."

"You're telling that to the woman who gave you that _sweet_ piece of cake," her dad said, pointing to the massive pile of chocolate on his son's plate. "Besides, eventually you'll want kisses…not necessarily from your mom but…_ouch_." He rubbed his side in pain caused from the jabbed elbow his wife had planted teasingly into his side.

"So Uncle Sam," April started between bites of cake, taking a seat next to him at the dining room table. "What's new?"

"Not much," he smiled. "Oh. Your Aunt Ruby and I bought a house."

"Oh really," her mom butted in. "Where?"

"Not too far from you guys actually." In fact, they had moved into the same town.

"We got sick of being away from you guys," Ruby smiled. April always liked her Aunt. Well, she wasn't always officially her 'Aunt,' not until Uncle Sam finally married her a few years ago. Apparently, for a few years, they had a lot of relationship troubles.

"How's school," Sam asked April. She sighed. _High School_. That was a subject she hated. It wasn't that she wasn't good at it. In fact, she was great. Her average was As and Bs and it made her parents happy. However, April hated being there. She considered it a waste of her time. In her heart, she always felt like…well it was hard to describe. That she had a different calling. A different view of her own future. Her parents just wanted her to go off to school, have dreams of college and a career like her twin, Dylan. He had everything planned. He wanted to go to Stanford next year like Uncle Sammy, maybe even get into law school.

"It's fine," she finally answered, taking a swig of her soda. "How's your job? Getting a lot of new things for the shop?"

"Uh, yeah. That last trip was pretty good," Sam answered. "Dean and I found a lot of new things to sell in the garage."

"Cool. I can't wait to get my hands on them," she smiled.

"I still can't believe you work in the shop with your Dad," he laughed. "You don't seem like the kinda girl who'd want to do that."

She loved working in the Winchester Body Shop with her dad. Put a little Rush or AC/DC on the loud speakers and give her an old, classic car and she was heaven. It was something that kept her interested; a break from her mundane life. Plus, she loved spending the time with her dad. Honestly, she always thought he was the coolest person she'd ever met. He taught her everything she knew about cars. Dean Winchester knew a hell of a lot about motor vehicles. Unfortunately, the one car she wanted to drive was off limits; Dylan and April were forbidden to drive the '67 Impala that sat in their driveway. The rule was it was Dad's to drive; period. If they wanted a car to drive, they had to get one themselves. So, she did. April had gone to her Uncle Bobby's not that long before and found an old red Mustang. She fell in love with it. So, she spruced it up and got in running. It was cherry. Even her dad was impressed.

"April," Jamie said, pulling on her arm. "Come on!"

"Where?!"

"Outside! Dylan wants to play football," he said, pointing outside. Her twin brother smiled at her through the sliding glass doors, waving the football in his hand. "I want you on my team, April."

"And who's on Dylan's?"

"Uncle Sam," he smiled.

"Well that's fair," she said, giving her Uncle a playful sneer. "Oh, you're goin' down, _Sammy_."

Her Uncle chuckled and told her it was on.

* * *

The game went surprisingly well, besides the fact Jamie got a bloody nose. They couldn't help it, they were all competitive. And, for a little kid, he surprisingly didn't cry. Must be something do with the fact that he was eleven instead of ten. April threw the football most of the time, sending Jamie deep down the lawn. He'd run as far back as he could and she'd apiral it away. He'd catch it. Touchdown. When they were on defense was when she had the most fun. Most of the time, she blocked her brother. When Dylan would try to make a move around her, she used her secret weapon; if you tickled him right under his right rib, his knees would buckle.

"Not fair, April," he'd laugh as he fell to the ground and she would pick up the ball, running it to the other end zone. She and Jamie would do their victory dance. They beat Dylan and Sam, 28 to 14.

"Game over," Sam panted, sitting down on the grass. "I need a break."

"You're outta shape," Ruby said, walking away from the sidelines and taking a seat on the grass beside him. "I was cheerleading for you, ya know." He took her hand and squeezed it.

April took in the scene. Her aunt and uncle sat on the grass, talking with Dylan as he pushed Jamie on the swing set. She could swear Jamie was trying to go over the top bar.

She looked around for her parents, finding them still in the house. April could view them through the window in the kitchen as Mom cleaned up from the party. Dad was behind her, whispering in her ear. Abby smiled as he continued to talk, about what April could only imagine. Abby finally spun around to face him, Dean taking her face with his hands. April could make out three words. I love you. Her mom said it back.

April sighed to herself. She felt lucky to have parents like hers. Most of her friends came from divorced homes that were always torn between their two parents. April could count on her hands and feet how many different times weekends were ruined because of the flip-flopping between folks. But hers…they were special. They looked at each other with fresh eyes every morning. Even after about eleven years of marriage, they were still madly infatuated with each other. There wasn't a day that she didn't see them hug or kiss one another. Sometimes, it got annoying, like how her dad always patted her mom's behind when she was making breakfast, but most times…she only wished that she could find a person to love her like that. She wanted to find her soul mate like her parents had found theirs. But she was only seventeen; there was plenty of time to discover that.

"April," her mom called from the doorway. "Could you do me a favor and get something from the basement for me? I'm still cleaning up."

"Sure," she muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Ha ha, you have to go into the _basement_," Dylan teased. She stuck out her tongue at him.

Yes, she had to go into the overly, creepy basement. All her mom wanted was for her to grab a box labeled party decorations so she could put away the stuff from Jamie's party. Little did she know, that little trip to the basement was about to change her life.


	2. How the Story Goes

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This fan fiction starts a week after "Lazarus Rising" and this chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

April crept down the squeaky, wooden stairs to the concrete foundation of their house.

_'Yep,' _she thought as she glanced around. _'Still weird.' _

It wasn't just because of the creepy hanging light bulb…or the old coal chute that looked like a crematory…or the large, locked ice chest; it was all of the above. When she and Dylan were little, they made up stories about why everything was down there. Their answer was that their home had to be an old funeral home, and the basement must have been where they stored the bodies and chopped them up. About a year before, when they were sixteen, Dylan actually did some research on their house. Turns out, there was never a funeral home and with that went their theory.

"Party Decorations," April mumbled to herself as she read the labels on the sides of boxes. Mom was meticulous about labelling. She had organization down to a tee. April wondered how long it took herself to develop those skills. At her age, April was no where near neatness; her room was a sty.

"Ok, Baby photos," she said, moving boxes out of her, always glancing over her shoulder. April constantly felt like she was being watched when she was down there. "St. Augustine…Lawrence…Lawrence?"

She wondered what, or who, was Lawrence? Was it a relative? April knew very little of her family past. She knew her mom had a brother named James who died before she and her brothers were born. Grandma and Papa Winchester had passed away as well. For all she knew, her only official living relative was Sam.

So, being her snoopy self, she opened the box and dug deep.

"Oh _Dad,"_ she mumbled to herself, pulling out a picture frame. In the photo was her dad, Sam and Papa Winchester sitting on the Impala. They were all so cute and her grandpa was so handsome. April felt quite lucky in the good-looking genes department. She was loaded.

The box was filled with photos and other mementos of her dad's past. Her mind wondered why in the world he would shove them down into the basement.

"What's this," she muttered, grabbing for a black container at the very bottom. After dusting off the old shoe box, she carefully opened it. Inside revealed a small, worn red book with a lock. It was a diary. Interest overwhelmed her and she found herself picking the lock, a trait she picked up from her daddy. He was always forgetting the keys to the house. So, he showed her how to get in if she ever found herself locked out.

With a slight click, she knew it was cracked. It opened slowly, pages sticking together from no use over time. She decided to start from the beginning. On the inside left cover, there was an inscription.

"The diary of Mary Campbell," April whispered. Mary Campbell was Grandma Winchester's maiden name before she married John. She couldn't help but be excited; she knew very little of her dad's mother. All she really could tell was that she had a nice smile. Her dad always told her that her smile reminded him of his mom.

As she flipped through some pages, she started noticing repeating symbols…_weird _symbols. Right side up and upside down crosses, pentagrams, rune markings…

"What _was _Gram into?"

She flipped quickly back to the first entry, wanting desperately to find out. Her heart jumped as footfalls started down the stairs. Quickly, she closed the small book and put it behind her, stuffing it into the back of her jeans.

"Hey, you need any help," her dad smiled.

"No, Dad. I'm good. Look, found it," she said, grabbing the box to the right.

"What box is that," he said, pointing to the open one on the floor.

_'Shit,' _she thought. "It's nothing…"

"Lawrence," he said, squatting down to read the side. "Whatcha doin in there, kiddo?"

"I swear Dad, it was already open…and I thought it was a person's stuff and…."

"And you got snoopy," he smirked.

"Yeah," she admitted with a blush. "Sorry."

"No harm, no foul. Don't worry about it, April."

"But Daddy, why are you stuffing these things down here? I mean, there are some really awesome photos of you, Sammy and Papa. And I even found one of Gram too."

"You saw them," he asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Yeah," she admitted. "And I have to say Dad, those photos are awesome. You and Dylan look like twins when he was your age in this picture." She pulled out the one in question.

"Huh, guess you're right," he said, taking the photo into his hand. He looked up at her with a smile "You know what, you're right. These have been down here way too long. It's time to put my boyish cuteness on display. Besides, Sammy probably would like to see them."

She was shocked as he grabbed the box and started to trudge up the stairs. With a confused shrug, April grabbed the party decoration box she was supposed to get in the first place and went upstairs to join her family.

"There," she dropped it on the floor by her mom. "Your box."

"Thanks, hun," her mom grinned. "Those photos you found are a real hit." She gestured to the family room. April spun around to see everyone on the floor surrounding the carton, digging through it.

"That's me, Jamie," Dean said to the small boy on his left, pointing himself out in a photo.

"Nuh uh," Jamie said.

"Uh huh," Dean rebuked.

"You were that small," Jamie said.

"What are you talking about, J? He still is small," Sam joked. The whole room laughed.

"Ha ha, very funny, Sammy..." She knew her dad wanted to add the phrase 'asshole' but, rules were rules; not in front of the small children.

"Why would Dad keep a shoe box," Sam laughed, holding up the black box from the bottom. She immediatly put her hand over the back of her jeans, feeling for the diary. Still there.

"Hey Mom," she said, turning around as Abby put streamers back into the box. "I'm going to head upstairs to do some homework."

_'Crap,' _she said as her mom raised her eyebrow. That look was never good.

"Homework, huh," she asked, with a smirk. Honestly, _nothing _ever got passed her mom. When April was little, she could swear her mom knew _everything_. The woman had to have had several eyes to catch some of the stuff they did. Abby could sense something fishy from miles away.

"Ok," Abby said with a shrug. "Glad to see you taking some initiative with school, April. I'll yell up to you when Sam and Ruby are going to leave so you can goodbye."

"K, Mom," April said.

Her heart pounded as she kept her walk casual. She couldn't help but feel excited with the book right there within reach. But she had to keep her cool. April took slow, deliberate steps up the stairs, fighting the urge to run. At the top landing, she took her first right, opened her door, and closed it softly behind. When the coast was finally clear, she locked the door and jumped on the bed. Sitting up, she pulled the old book of secrets from her waistband. She studied it in her hands, turning it over and over, readying herself for what she would find. Cautiously, her heart beating like a bass drum in her chest, she opened the book to the first entry:

_Nov. 2__nd__, 1971_

_Well, it was just another normal day as seventeen-year-old Mary Campbell. I had to kill my neighbor last night…_


	3. Are You Ready

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This fan fiction starts a week after "Lazarus Rising" and this chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"Where's April," Dean asked between bites of his re-heated dinner.

"Upstairs, cloistering herself again," Abby sighed.

"Again," he questioned, wiping the spaghetti sauce off his lips with a napkin. Abby nodded in acknowledgment. She plopped down at the table, taking the seat across from him.

"You really should shower," she smirked. He raised his eyes to her with a devilish grin, the kind that she knew would lead to a very good night. But, in all seriousness, he really did need to get clean. He was still dressed in his greasy body shop clothes.

"So what's up with that girl," Dean asked with a mouthful of pizza, pointing his fork towards the stairs. "She's been studying like crazy! Is school ok?"

"I checked online and her grades are fine. It's not like she has to catch up on stuff. I don't know what's going on. For the last week, she comes home runs up there for hours, run back down here for food and then runs back upstairs afterward. Honestly, I haven't spoken for more than five minutes with her all day. God I wish I could peer into her head..." She looked down at the amulet around her neck, twisting it between her fingers. That little piece of silver was the only thing holding her back from searching her daughter's thoughts. All she had to do was take it off and...

"Well, you can't. That was the deal. You wanted normal so we're being normal. No peeking around in anyone's madula ablangada."

"Well then Dean, how are we going to find out what's going on," she sighed.

"Like any normal parent; ask her. And, if that fails, go through her room when she's not home," he shrugged.

"And that's ok but my mental spying isn't," Abby laughed.

"Yeah, I think so," her husband smiled. "You know, she called into to work today. She said she was really behind on studying."

"Now that's odd. She loves to work with those cars," she said, her eyes full of suspicion. "What's goin' on up there?"

She thought back to when she was seventeen, really seventeen. What was going through her mind at the time? Her conclusion was nothing good. Not only was she trying to break all the rules, including but not limited to sleeping with a married man, but she had a wild heart. She wanted to be free.

"Ab," Dean asked, snapping his fingers in front of her face to grasp her attention. "What are you thinkin'?"

"Dean, what were you like when you were seventeen?"

* * *

April put the book down as she finished the last entry. It was dated May 9, 1973; a little over two years after Mary's first entry. She was nineteen and in love with John, agreeing to marry him shortly before. But, that week also had tremendous heartache; her world had completely fallen apart. Mary lost both of her parents, as well as John for a brief time, in the same day. May 2, 1973. She told of how she made a deal with a yellow-eyed demon to save her fiance from death. His only requirement was that he be allowed to make a quick, uninterrupted visit to her children in ten years. He promised that as long as he could do what he had to alone, no one would get hurt.

She did the math in her head and figured out ten years was 1983, the year Grams had died. Her stomach turned over and over as she thought, maybe, that's how she really died and why her folks were so secretive about her death. April knew there had been a fire, but that was pretty much it.

"Wow," she whispered to herself, laying herself down on the bed. April looked around at her messy bedroom, staring past the lilac walls. Everything was different. Changed. She knew more about the world, the REAL world, than she ever thought she'd know. No wonder certain people did jobs like her Grams; most people wouldn't be able to handle the existence of supernatural beings. April could handle it. She'd seen one in her very house when she was a kid. It was a ghost boy. He didn't do much, just messed with her and Dylan's toys, but still...they were there. Vampires. Werewolves. Shapeshifters. Demons. Witches. They all factually existed.

April glanced over to the unused black journal her brother Dylan had given her for her birthday. She leaned off of the bed and snagged it, along with a black pen, off of her desk. She sat on her bed, book in hand, and started to write:

**_Nov. 2nd_**

_Dear Journal,_

_I just found out my life is a lie. Funny how it doesn't take that long for the truth to unravel and all it took was a little diary I found. It was in a box in the basement. I hate going down there. Its __so__ damn creepy. As a kid, my brothers and I would always play rock- paper-scissor to see who was going to go down there. My little one always lost. It's always dark, dreary and just overall weird. Maybe it's just the lighting but everything used to give me the heebie-jeebies. I even thought once, when I was about ten, that our place was haunted. Up until yesterday, I thought that was a stupid thoughts of a scared girl. But now…after reading the diary, maybe it really was._

_The box was labeled Lawrence. I figured, maybe it was the name of a relative I didn't know about so I went snooping. What I found was mementos of my Dad's past. Photos of him and my uncle as a little kid that I never seen before. There were even photos of my Grandpa. I never met him. Dad said he died a few years before I was born. I wish I could have known him There was even a photo of my Grandma. She was absolutely beautiful. Dad says sometimes, when I smile, I remind him of her. Most of the time though, I look like my Mom. Some people swear that we're twins when we're out._

_At the bottom of the box was a book with a lock on it. I picked it, having acquired that ability from watching my Dad when he would forget the keys to the car or the house. Inside it was inscribed "The Diary of Mary Campbell." It was my Grandma's diary from when she was a teenager, before she got married to my Grandpa, John Winchester_

_I read it, thinking that it would be the basic ramblings of a seventeen year old girl; a girl the same age as me. I figured Cheerleading. Boys. School. But it caught me completely be surprise. The life of Mary Campbell was _**_not _**_normal. She was something else; something special. She knew of things that bumped in the night and wasn't scared. Her family fought against dark forces and creepy things; helping people. Saving them. She called herself a hunter. She was one as her parents were and there's before her. She came from a direct line of hunters dating back from centuries before._

_I was surprised by this. I didn't want to mention anything to my Dad or Mom about my findings. They are __so__ not the people to talk to about this. They are your average, run-of-the-mill people with regular jobs. I mean, I love them to death, and Dad is surprisingly cool…but they wouldn't know anything about hunting. They probably would think I was crazy!_

_So, I decided to confide in you, my new journal. I want to document my new life like my Grandma did before. I come from a line of family with a very important job. I have always thought I was meant for a greater purpose and now I know; it's in my blood to save people. I am a hunter._

_~ April Winchester_

She closed the book, locking the side securely as her Gram's used to. April swung herself off of the bed, sliding easily underneath. She fished her trusty pocket knife out of her jeans and cut a small slit into the box spring under her mattress. Carefully, she slid both diaries into the center of the opening. Once she knew they couldn't be discovered by the untrained eye, she scooted herself from below.

With a knowing smirk, she jumped onto her computer, quickly gathering information on what her Gram's mentioned as the weapons and skills of a true hunter. On top of that, she had to think of someway to get around her parents knowing what she was up to. She had work to do.


	4. Nothing Ever Goes As Planned

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

Abby anxiously tapped her fingers on the kitchen table, waiting for Dean's return home from work. She glanced up at the clock above the stove. It wouldn't be too long.

"You ok, Ma," Dylan asked, staring at her with concern across the table as he worked on his math homework.

"Fine," she muttered, sipping her coffee.

"Maybe you should lay off the java. You're really jittery," he joked, trying to make her feel better. He always did his best to cheer her up when she was down. Much like Dean, Dylan had the unique ability to read people. She often wondered if it was just human instinct or a genetic gift from his father.

"Well," she sighed, giving in, "it's your sister."

Dylan shut his arithmetic book, focusing his attention on his mother.

"Is she ok," he inquired.

"Should she be," she asked.

"I think so, why do ya ask, Mom?"

She was about to start when Dean walked through the front door.

"Hey babe," he said with a smiled, setting his bag down at the door. She didn't smile back. "Uhoh…what did I do?"

"It's not you this time…"

"Dylan," he questioned, pointing at his son with a surprised look on his face. Dylan was not a trouble maker. In fact, he had never been in trouble at school; period. He always made the honors list and was an all around great kid.

"No, it's your daughter."

"April," his eyes widened.

"You have another one," Abby replied with deep sarcasm. Dylan chuckled.

"Ok," Dean said, taking a seat at the table with his family. "So, what's the news?"

Abby started by recalling the first significant event of her day. She received a phone call from the secretary at Dylan and April's school.

"Hello, Mrs. Winchester," a female asked over the line.

"Yes, this is she."

"Hello. I'm Mrs. Flannigan from the high school. I was just calling to check in on April. Just wanted to know how she's doing. We're all praying for her."

"Is something wrong," Abby gasped, her mind racing. April was supposed to be on a class trip.

"Well, she gave us your note saying she had to get medical treatment for her illness and wouldn't be in for four days," the secretary said the skepticism. She probably thought Abby was a very insensitive, uneducated fool. Problem was, Abby didn't write a letter and April wasn't sick. The kid was _never _ill; she was always as healthy as a horse.

She thought back to a week before. April finally started coming downstairs again, joining in with the rest of the family. She had approached Abby with a signed, official-looking letter from the school, announcing a trip for the history class. Skeptical, Abby questioned the trip to famous sites of American Revolution battles, but April reassured her by presenting a website with all the information on the company and the school sponsorship.

Dylan laughed..

"What's so funny," she cut.

"You do know she's taking web design in school, right? She probably just made that whole website up!"

"So, question is," Dean started, "where is she? Is she answering her phone?"

"No, Dean, she's not. I have no idea where she is. I'm so…_pissed off_. She lied to our faces, created an elaborate scheme, forged our signatures on her note….and for what?!"

"I have no idea, Ab," he said, turning towards Dylan. "So, you don't know anything, son?"

"No, Dad, I swear. If I did know something, I'd tell you. I'm worried about her too. I'm gonna go upstairs and try to get her on my cellphone. Maybe she'll pick up for me?" With that, Dylan pushed out his chair and headed up to his room.

"At least we have one good kid," Abby mumbled.

"Hey, it's not like April isn't good. She's always been a little nutty, ya know? She takes after the crazy parts of both of us…only combined," Dean smirked.

"That's what bothers me."

"Listen, Ab, Sam called earlier. There's this case in Providence, Rhode Island that he wants to look at. Looks like a shifter. So, we're leavin'…tonight," he said as her eyes slit and she was going to interrupt. "Hold up, I know what you're gonna say but, I'm going. You stay here and listen for her. I'll try to get any clues I can get while we're out. If you hear from her, I'll turn right around and be back here, ok?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. He was going to go either way. And, it wasn't like hunting was an everyday occurrence anymore. Dean walked over to her, picking her up and holding her tight.

"She'll come home, Ab."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Dean. I don't think she ran away. I'm scared that she got herself into something she can't get out of…or she's lyin' in a ditch somewhere," she whispered close to tears.

"I'll find her," he said, setting her down before going upstairs to change and pack for his trip.

* * *

Dean took in a deep, nervous breathe as he entered the house. Abby was curled up on the recliner by the front door sleeping but jostled awake at the sound of his keys.

"Hey, babe," he whispered. "Sorry to wake you."

"S'okay," she answered with a yawn, "I didn't want to fall asleep anyway. How was the hunt?"

"Good," he said, dropping his duffel down by the door. "Typical shifter. Gone now." She got up from the chair and stretched, moving towards her husband. He wrapped his arms around her, happy to be home again. Dean knew she was always incredibly nervous when he hunted now. He rubbed her lower back and kissed her on the forehead, pleased to feel her smile against his chest. But, then he remembered what he had to tell her.

"Hey," he said, pulling her back to look at her. " We need to talk."

"About?"

"April."

"Is she ok," Abby started, panicked.

"She's alive but...you might wanna sit down for this, ok?"

"Dean, what's wrong?!"

"Just sit. I know how you get," he sighed. She did reluctantly, taking a seat on the same recliner as before. Dean didn't know how to break it to her. What he had found out had taken him by surprise and had cut him to the core.

He told her about how he and Sam had stopped by Jo's Roadhouse on the way back from Rhode Island. It was similair to Ellen's place, or what it had been before the fire. There were hunters around, takikng a break between endless jobs. Dean was only glad that wasn't his whole life anymore. Jo had given them drinks on the house and mentioned that April had stopped in a day before.

"April was here," Dean asked Jo.

"Yeah. She was in town working on the whole vampire thing. Didn't you know? She said you gave her the case."

His heart sank and he could feel Sam staring daggers into him. No one, not even Sam, wanted the kids to have that kinda life. Dean told Jo that he didn't know anything about it, and explained the real situation to Jo.

"Are you sure she's out there working a vampire case," Dean asked Jo. She said yes and that April knew a hell of a lot about hunting. Dean couldn't even guess where she had gotten the info. Abby, Sam and himself and done their damnedest to keep that information private. Jo went on to tell Dean that at first she thought it was a joke. So, she tested her, asking her questions any hunter should know. The girl knew all the answers.

"Dean, how could she know all of that," Sam asked. Unfortunately, Dean was fucking clueless. At first he thought maybe she had found his dads journal, but Sam reminded him that it was in his care. It was just another extra step they had taken to make sure the kids were unaware of their real life.

Dean stood in front of Abby, pausing in his story. She was tense, gripping the arms of the chair, the slight cracking of wood splintering in her grasp.

"Abby, talk to me. What are you thinkin," he asked, hands in his pockets. She remained silent, until her resolve faltered, her head going into her hands.

"How...how could she know...," she sobbed. "We did our best to hide this for YEARS, Dean. What the hell changed in the last month?! She went from being a happy little girl to locking herself up in her room."

The sound of a car pulling up took them out of the moment. Dean moved the curtains back and peered out the window. It was the familiar red Mustang. His mind was filled with both relief and nervousness; he was happy to have her home but too anxious to confront her. A slight growl sounded across from him.

"Ab, I want you to sit down at all times, ok," he pleaded. He knew how she could get when she was that pissed.

"How can you be so calm?!"

"I had about a thousand miles to chew on this, babe. When I found out at the roadhouse, I put a crack in my beer bottle. I stewed over this for hours driving. I'm not over it, not in the slightest. I just wanna know what the hell she was thinking...especially about goin' out there alone. And, I wanna know why she lied. That's all."

Abby nodded, agreeing to keep her seat. The keys jingled and April entered the house, her overnight bag in hand.

"Hey guys, I'm home," she beamed. Dean remained silent, crossing his arms over his chest, unbelievably angry with his daughter.

"Have a seat, kid. We need to talk. _Now_."


	5. Opened The Door

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"What's wrong, Daddy," April asked innocently as she plopped her bag down on the wooden floor. Abby gripped the chair firmly, holding herself back. Dean gave her a look that told her to stay put.

"Oh, I don't know. Where were you? And don't you _dare_ lie to me," he snapped.

"What do ya mean where was I? I was on the class trip," she shrugged.

"That's one," Dean said, holding up his index finger.

"But I was," she yelled, throwing her arms in the air, like she couldn't believe she was being questioned. The wood snapped in Abby's hands.

"Do you want to try again," Dean bellowed.

"I was with the class, Dad!"

"That's two," he yelled, putting up another finger.

"Two what," she sassed back.

"Two weeks, grounded. _No friends! No car! No phone! Nothing!_"

April stomped her foot like a toddler and Abby just about lost it. She held back the growl she knew was coming from deep in her chest.

"That's so unfair," April screamed in a high-pitched voice.

"That's three," Dean pointed at her. "Wanna make it four?! Just keep goin'!"

"That's it! I can't _stand_ this place anymore! I'm goin' to Sam's!"

"The hell you are," Dean yelled as she opened the front door. Before Abby knew what she was doing, she rushed to the entry at vampire speed, blocking her daughter's path.

"_Sit down_," Abby demanded between clenched teeth. Dean's look said it all, she just let out a whole new set of issues by using her powers. April stared at her in disbelief. "I said…sit. _Down_."

April stumbled backwards into the chair her mom previously occupied. Abby approached her, arms crossed, trying to calm herself down. Dean walked over beside her, wrapping an arm protectively around her and rubbing her upper limb soothingly. He gave her a quick reassuring squeeze to his side.

"Oh my god…it's all true," April whispered.

"What was that," Dean demanded.

"Mom's a …I can't believe it," she mumbled to herself.

April shot her mother a look of disgust.

"He knew all about you. As soon as he heard my last name, he knew who I was; the relative of two of the greatest hunters ever. How could you lie to me about that?!" she stood up to her parents. Dean put his arm tight around Abby as soon as he felt her tense. He wasn't going to let anyone get hurt. "And you…he was right! You're a…vamp-ire. Dad, how could you marry _that_?! Something you hunted?!"

"Woah," he said putting himself between Abby and April. "Don't you _ever_ say that about your mother! She's as much of a human as you are."

"So I've heard," she rolled her eyes. "I'm a half-breed, right? Half-human, half-vampire? _Thanks guys_."

Abby was so furious she could barely see straight. After everything they had done for their daughter, _all they had forfeited. _She grabbed her necklace and pulled, hearing each silver link hit the floor. Screw normalcy; it was all over now. She stared at her daughter, trying to get at her thoughts but something was wrong; she came up with nothing. April grinned.

"Oh, he also knew all about you and your power, Mom. Sorry."

"Why can't I read your thoughts, _dear_," Abby snarled, making April jump slightly.

"Well, you know, being as it would be a total invasion of my _privacy_, I found a way around it. He told me about a couple symbols that could come in handy with hunting."

"You're not wearing any amulets," Dean said, checking out her neck and wrists.

"Well, yeah," she said, pulling her arm away from her dad. "I opted for something of the permanent nature." She smirked.

Dean tensed in front of Abby, his heartbeat quickening, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Yep, he had reached his boiling point.

"_Where_," he demanded.

"Dad, you can't ask that..it's kinda private."

"WHERE?!"

Abby took a hold of his arm. She heard his thoughts clearly: he was thinking that he created her and he could take her out. April sighed annoyingly and turned around, lifting her shirt. On her lower back was a black tribal design with various pagan symbols of protection.

"You got a tramp stamp," Dean yelled. Abby took a hold of him and switched their positions so he was behind her. There was something with April's smile and her eyes; they weren't the usual eyes of her daughter. They reminded her of a predator.

"You didn't," Abby asked with a heavy heart. "_Please_ tell me you didn't."

"Did what," she asked naively.

"Dean, back up," Abby ordered, pushing him back, her stance becoming protective.

"What's wrong?"

Abby didn't know how she was going to break it to him. After all they down to prevent the situation they were now facing. "She had blood," she managed to choke out. "Human."

Dean's heart skipped a beat, and Abby could tell from April's reaction that she heard it too. April's canines started to lengthen. Abby crouched protectively in front of her husband.

"April, remember who you are. That's your father," she begged. April only smiled and quickly moved around her at vampire speed. Abby grabbed her and pinned her to the floor before she could hurt Dean. April hissed up at her. Abby looked down in disappointment.

"So, I'm guessing the _he_ you keep mentioning was a vampire right? He got you to try blood?"

"He told me who I really am, Mom! What you've been keeping from me! I'm stronger and faster than I ever was before and it was always _here_. As well as this," she said, pushing her mom off of her with her thoughts. Her powers that they had hexed away with an amulet ten years before had come back. Whoever the male vampire was had revealed _everything_ to her. Abby was pinned helplessly against the wall by her daughter, who now had tears in her eyes. "You kept everything from me! Everything special! And for what?!"

"Because if _I_ could have what _you_ had, a chance of a life without having to take another to survive, I would. But that's over for you now, April. You'll need it forever just to survive. Did he tell you that," Abby asked, her eyebrow raised. April's face fell. Apparently, he had forgotten that little nugget of information. Her eyes softened back to the green of her daughters, a reflection of her father's.

"Why wouldn't he tell me," she sobbed, falling to the ground, her head in her hands. Dean moved forward to comfort her, but Abby motioned for him to stay back. She didn't know if it was just a ploy.

She went to her daughter's side, holding her as she howled, gripping at her mother's shirt, tearing it from her new-found strength. Abby rocked her, soothing her, her hand massaging her daughter's back. Dean watched helplessly from the other side of the room.

"April," she whispered, "I think you should tell me who this _man _is who got you to do this_._"

Her daughter wiped her eyes, raising her eyes to her mother's and nodded in agreement.


	6. Chain Reaction

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

April sat on the couch, her head tilted back on the cushions as her parents argued in the hallway. She was just glad that her brothers were away that night. Good choice for a movie night.

She couldn't honestly believe it herself; she was a Lamia _vampire_. It was amazing how different she felt in her own skin after having tried her first sip of blood. Her skin actually tingled. Everything was more fragrant, and in some cases, savory. Her eyes could view the tiniest of objects from miles away. And her ears picked up on every single sound. April felt alive for the first time in her life…that is until her mother informed her of the curse. She'd now need blood just to survive, forever.

Abby had offered up an explanation as to why she had kept her kids away from their "roots" and desired them only to be "normal;" because if she had the same choice, she would have loved to have that kind of life.

"April," her mom whispered, kneeling in defeat in front of her daughter only minutes before, "I did my best. I knew you guys…all three of you could survive on just normal food. Granted you'd never have the vampire 'benefits,' but it made life so easy for you in the normal world. You have no idea what it was like for me." She had it right there. April had no clue as the hardships her mother had endured through her...god knows how many years on Earth.

Now, her parents were fighting and they never fought, at least in front of the kids, and now they were arguing because of her.

"So, you're more angry about the damn tattoo," Abby poked, obviously picking up on the thought from his mind.

"No…well, I'm _pissed _about that too, Ab, but I'm just…_so fucking angry! Goddamn_, what the fuck are we going to do," he spat, rubbing a hand through his hair. Dean shifted his gaze over to his daughter, a look of hurt in his green eyes. She shifted her eyes away, hating the disappointment on her dad's face. Her parents quickly shifted to the living room, taking their individual seats in front of her in separate chairs.

"So, go on," Abby said, pulling her legs up underneath herself. "Tell us what happened."

"_Everything_," her dad added, leaning forward, elbows resting tensely on his knees.

She didn't know where to begin, so she started by telling them about how she found out; she told them about the diary.

"Mom…Mom wrote about her life as a hunter," Dean questioned, his eyes full of surprise and sadness. April nodded, revealing the reason why she had be so reclusive for such a long time. She was captivated by Mary's daily events, even though Mary herself had seemed to be taken aback. April could tell that the lifestyle had taken it's toll on her grandmother.

"Did Grams hunt after she got married," she asked her dad.

"Nope, not that we know of. As far as we can tell, my Dad found out about hunters on his own," he shrugged. "She wanted a normal life, April. And the one thing she _didn't _want was for her kids, and I'm assuming, grandkids to be involved. And still we somehow got dragged into it somehow. Fate, maybe…even though I don't really believe in that crap." April was curious as to why Abby shot him a painful look.

"So, ok. You found my Mom's book. So, what else did you do?"

She explained how it had captivated her and why the story had sparked something within; almost a feeling of responsibility because now she knew. So, she looked up the information her Grams had left about fighting styles, weapons of choice, special amulets…and she ordered them online. It was pretty simple.

"The combat just came to me. I never knew that I could kick so much ass," she shrugged, not really believing it herself at first. She needed very little training when it came to hand-to-hand. "And Dad had taught me how to throw knives as a kid." Abby shot him a angry look.

_'Oops,' _she thought. She must have let a very old cat outta the bag. She mouthed sorry to her dad.

"So, I looked online for weird stories around the country, and found one in Pennsylvania regarding people getting killed with very little blood left behind. Sounded like vampires, so I left to find out."

"Is that when you forged those notes and signatures," Abby asked, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. April reluctantly shook her head yes. She wasn't going to admit it, but she did feel really bad about lying. Her parents had always been good to her…but she wanted to hunt so much. It was her calling. April relayed how she drove out to Erie, PA and searched around for clues. After a few days, what she uncovered astounded her; two groups of vampires. One was dedicated to protecting humans, the other to hurting them. The second was framing the first, trying to run them outta town by exposure. She helped the good nest escape and killed a couple of the evil ones. It was a rush.

"Once I got some of the good guys out, I ran into two vamps who were also hunters. At first, I tried to kill them until they proved to me they were there to help," she smirked. And she totally would of had them. They were in a secluded spot and she had plenty of dead man's blood and a very sharp machete. She even had one pinned against the tree. It wasn't until one of them showed her the insignia of the good nest that she rescued that she knew who they were and that they had been working the same case.

"That insignia wouldn't have looked like this, would it," her mother said, showing her a metallic bracelet with the same symbol. Abby smiled and explained that she was second in command of the nest she helped rescue. Shocked, April looked at her mom in a new light. She used to just be Mom, the woman who woke her up too early for school and happened to make a kick ass omelet. Then, she was the enemy, a creature of the night who shouldn't exist. Now… she looked powerful and almost regal. She looked like a warrior.

"I wondered why these guys didn't attack me, you know being a human and all. Figured I looked good for a meal. And that's when they said that I was part vampire so why would they? I laughed my ass off! I thought it was a stupid, cruel joke, but then, they asked who my mother was. As soon as I said you're name, they looked at each other and I knew they knew you. The one even asked if your maiden name was Stuart."

April had just stood there in disbelief, mumbling to herself that it couldn't be. Her mom had been so…_normal_. There was no way she could have kept it from her that long! _Her whole life?_ She wanted to know more about her heritage as a Lamia, and the brunette one, whose name is later learned was Wesley, appealed to her curiosity. He showed her how fast he could run and demonstrated his strength by kicking a tree in half. And he explained about the powers they possessed as individuals. His own power was he could tell what another's power was. Wesley explained how she had the power of telekinesis. April vaguely recalled her abilities, mostly in dreams, and wondered why she couldn't use them. He then pointed out the symbol charm on her necklace; it was hex symbol to keep the powers out of her grasp.

"He taught me everything about my powers and also told me how I could get the vampire ones…by drinking from the flask he had. I asked what it was and he said it was blood. 'One sip, that's all it takes.' So, I took a chug…but I never thought I'd have to do it again, Mom. Do I really have to do it forever?"

Abby turned away, her eyes filled with grief. April knew her answer.

* * *

"April, you need to come away with me for a few days," Abby said, moving a little too gracefully from her seat.

"Why," her daughter questioned, a look of innocence and stealth on her face. It was the mark of the internal fight of human vs. vampire.

It wasn't meant to be a pleasure getaway; it was one of necessity. By giving into her temptations, and with human blood at that, she was a liability to every human she passed. That included her father. Dean was at a huge risk with April around and she had to get them apart.

"Come on, kid. Pack your bag," Abby pressured, pushing her daughter lightly up the stairs, keeping a buffer between her daughter and her husband.

She felt Dean come up behind her as the door to April's room shut. His arms wrapped around her and he lightly kissed her shoulder.

"Do you really have to go," he sighed into her neck.

"Just for a few days. I have to detox her off of human and wean her onto animal blood. And I have to make sure you're safe. Besides, I think it's time I teach her about my past and her future."

She felt uncomfortable in his arms, as she even had to tell her daughter things her husband didn't know...yet.


	7. Don't Look Back

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

Abby sat on the side of the full sized paisley comforter across from her daughter. It had been two days since they had arrived at the hotel and four days since her girl's last drop of human blood. April trembled and rubbed her arms. Not that she knew from experiences, but more from seeing into the mind of recovering addicts, coming off of human blood was like coming down from heroin or cocaine. It was hard and painful. Abby remembered going through it herself. The convulsions. The hallucinations. The nausea. The dizziness. And yet, it was harder to watch her daughter go through it than it was for herself.

She leaned over to the other bed and placed an extra afghan over her daughter's shoulders.

"Thanks," she shuddered.

"You need anything else," Abby asked her daughter, giving her a brief kiss on the forehead. Unable to speak again, she just shook her head no. "I'm sorry you have to go through this, April. I really am, but this is for your own good. It'll make life a little easier once you get on animal blood."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," April muttered, her teeth chattering. "Hey Ma?"

"What?"

"How can you stand being around humans? Dad smelt…god, this is going sound so wrong, but he smelt _good._ And you sleep next to him every night? Do you not have a sense of smell or something?"

Abby laughed. She wished she couldn't smell Dean. He smelt absolutely heavenly to her. In fact, late at night curled against his back, she would catch herself taking in his scent by his neck while he slept. But she could never really hurt him. In fact, the only one who did any nibbling on necks was him.

"Well, April, I was raised on animal blood, so, being around humans was never that hard for me. That is, until I tried my first sip…then it became more of a problem. But I could never hurt your father. I would kill myself before I'd hurt him."

"I know you love him, Mom," April smiled before she hissed in pain. "But still, it's gotta be hard." Abby couldn't argue. "Mom, why did your parents raise you that way?"

Abby pulled her legs up onto the bed and sat Indian style. Her daughter followed suit on the opposite bed, only she pulled her warm blanket up around herself. She started the story by describing her early life in St. Augustine with her parents and brother. April wanted to know more about her grandparents and great-grandparents and Abby shrugged. She knew very little about them herself. Her mother Ann was of French and English descent and her father Thomas was English and Spanish. They fled to the colonies shortly after they met, marrying and establishing roots in the New World. As a kid, Abby had pieced together that her own grandparents didn't like her parents marriage. It had something to do with social status in the Lamia society. She also vaguely remembered, as an adult, being told she was from 'regal' blood. But, to be honest, that's all she knew. Her parents refused to back to Europe, making her promise to do the same, as it was considered by them to be dangerous.

She explained her parent''s established rules about no human blood, mostly because her folks had so many human friends. April's attention was completely devoted to her as Abby reminisced about her past, although she was sure to let some of the details slip; for example, why her family got killed. April seemed surprisingly devastated to learn her grandparents were killed by hunters. She looked away from her mother, seemingly ashamed. Abby playfully hit her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't feel bad kid, after all I married a hunter," she smirked. It didn't elevate her daughter's depressed aura. With a deep sigh, Abby continued on about her exploits afterward. She went on about how she went after the man responsible for killing her family, leaving her brother behind as she tracked the man to the edge of the nation. His scent had actually ended in the ocean. He had either drowned or taken a boat somewhere. Either way, there was no way to catch him after that. So, she turned around and looked for her brother.

"Why didn't Uncle James stay with you," April asked.

"He didn't like my revenge scheme nor did her commend my binging on human blood. It was all a coping mechanism, April. I wanted to hurt people, any person, for what they did to my parents. It was a dark time in my life, perhaps the darkest. But, once I got it out of my system, I went back to living how my parents taught me. I did it in their memory. Eventually during my travels, I met other vampires that held the same belief." Abby told her of how she fled north to start a new life in a new colony. She settled on Massachusetts Bay. Abby spent most of her time going between Boston and Oyster Bay, owning a house in each township. The humans thought she was the tragically beautiful, orphaned daughter of wealthy parents, perhaps living in luxury from her inheritance. Some of the citizens took pity on her and invited her into their homes for dinner, idle chats and dancing. She did enjoy the company, as she still couldn't find her brother, although she was always certain that his presence was never far away.

One such family were the Allens. They were from Boston and were avid patriots for the independence of the colonies from Britain.

"Mom, you're THAT old," April asked with a hint of disbelief in her quivering voice. Abby smirked and nodded, finally revealing her true age to her daughter for the first time. She laughed as her child's eyes widened. Abby thought it the best time to explain the Lamia's unique ability to choose their age, but cautioned that it was an important decision and wasn't to be taken lightly. She added the fact that hers wasn't even a choice; she was frozen at the age of an intense trauma. It was yet another 'fun fact' about being a Lamia vampire.

Abby continued on, telling her about the lavish parties for the women while the men talked politics. Abby would always sneak around and focus her attention on the male conversation. The news of the war didn't just effect the human's but the vampires as well. By that time, she had already decided to be a hunter and join up with the same nest she was with till that same day.

She had been listening as they described a tea party in the harbor and shots fired at Lexington and Concord.

"And then I was startled as someone managed to sneak up behind me. No one could do that."

"Excuse me," he had said in a sweet voice. It was so clear and fresh in her mind, that she could almost hear him in the hotel room.

Abby had pivoted herself gracefully around in her dress to face the person who had managed to catch the vampire eavesdropping. He was taller than she was, dressed in a hand-me-down navy suit. His long, mahogany hair was pulled back in a pony tail, except for the few strands that fell into his light blue eyes. He shot her a heartbreaking smile. That was all it took.

"Who was he," April asked, practically on the edge of her seat. Abby stopped and shifted her daughter back into a more comfortable position on the bed.

"You know, I never have told your father any of this, April," she paused, sighing at her inability to talk about that particular moment in her past to Dean. "He was Nathaniel Allen...and two weeks after that chance meeting, he became my first husband."


	8. Too Much Time On My Hands

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/29/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"I was still so young, April. Only thirty years had passed since my parents died and I had finally found something _good _after all that _hate_. He - he was what I needed."

"So, you loved him," April asked, obviously unable to comprehend her mother loving anyone as much as her father.

"I did. Nathaniel was a sweet boy. He was seventeen like me…well, sorta I guess," she chuckled. "He courted me as was tradition. His parents absolutely adored me and I them. But then, the war called on its men and he answered. His father was so proud."

"What about you, Mom? Didn't you try to stop him," she questioned, twisting her blankets apprehensively in her hands.

"Oh, believe me, deep down I wanted to. But, how could **I? **I was working with nests out there fighting for a cause. We were fighting a war most didn't even know about. So, I did what I would have wanted him to do in return; I let him go and fight." Abby sighed to herself, remembering the day he informed her that he was going to march off with his friends into the unknown future. He had promised to come back to her.

"Before he left to join up with his regiment, we went to the priest in the city and got married with his parent's blessings." It had been a quick ceremony, as well as a very fast honeymoon; it was four days later that he left to join up with the rest of the patriots. "He came back a few times on leave to visit over the time of the war. I always did my best to hide my own wounds from battles I personally had been involved in. After all, it was considered quite scandalous and unladylike to fight."

"So, what happened after the war," April inquired, a look of dread written on her face.

"He - he was in the war until the end. It was five long years. Nathaniel had grown up into a man during the war. Every time I would see him on leave, he looked older and weary…until he gazed into my eyes and he would beam. I was _his hope_. His home," she paused, not wanting to get to the next part; the important part she wanted her daughter to know. "I was up at his parent's country home, where they had let me stay while Nathaniel was away. I was awaiting his return after Yorktown, watching out the windows and standing on the front porch, praying that he made it. And, somehow, he did. One day, I saw him walking up the road. He was a little worse for the wear, but he was alive and home. I ran to him and jumped into his arms only have him hiss. That's when I noticed the blood."

She remembered how it had hit her like a bus. The sweet, salty, tangy almost cinnamon like smell oozing from his skin, hidden from view under his clothes. Abby fought with herself, keeping her canines up as much as possible.

"I kept reminding myself to stay calm and of who he was. He was my husband and I couldn't hurt him. Before I knew what I was doing, I was rushing him into the house. I gently set him down on the bed and tore his jacket away. He was shot in the stomach and the wound was severely infected. There was no hope. The army doctor probably just sent him home to die," she whispered as her daughter sniffled in the background. She didn't look up to meet her gaze. "He was already delirious, just repeating over and over that he came back for me. I'll never forget how he looked at me. So happy and full of faith. But then the fever overtook him two days later. There was no hope. I was sleep so deprived and hungry…it was the hunger that got me thinking. I jumped to my plan, optimistic about my strategy to save him. Other vampires had done it to loved ones before. It was selfish but at that moment I was as well; I was going to turn him. All I had do was drink him enough to where he was dying and then have him take some of my blood into his system. Done. And he'd still be there. But, my mother always said, she wished that made vampires had a choice in their rebirth. So, I - I told Nathaniel about it; everything."

"Holy shit," April muttered.

"Watch the mouth," Abby mothered with a smirk. "But, yes, I told him. I explained everything. He just stared at me until the end and told me I was crazy. We argued and then I growled and bared my teeth. I regretted that immediately. His face fell and he looked at me differently. It wasn't with love…but with disgust. Nathaniel told me to get out and to fetch a priest. He told me he never wanted to see me again and tore off his wedding ring and threw it into the fireplace. When I left, he was sobbing and praying for his immortal soul." She stopped as she saw April start to cry. With her maternal instinct in full gear, she hopped onto the other bed and pulled her daughter into her arms, rocking her calmly.

"What happened to him," April whispered between tears.

"He passed away the next day. I went to the funeral but I stayed away…far back from the family. They didn't even know I was there. When I turned to leave, I saw my brother. I always knew he was never that far behind me. He smiled and I ran into his arms. From that moment on, we never were apart."

She never got married after that. Sure, she had lovers but…having a family was out of the question. Being a vampire that didn't age, you'd have to do one of two things: fake our own death or just leave. Either would be too hard to do with children involved. Although, she did have more than one occasion when she had to make such choices without marriage. No matter what, being a vampire involved with a human meant someone would be hurt. So, when she fell for Caleb in the 1920s, another vampire, she thought the situation would be better.

"It didn't pan out the way I wanted it," she said stoically, knowing he was the reason her brother was gone. "But, because of him, it led me to your father. He's the love of my very long life."

"Really," she sniffled.

"Honestly and truly. I haven't met anyone in three hundred years like Dean."

"Well I can believe that one," April laughed, setting herself upright. She seemed to have more control over her body.

"April. Sweetie, the only reason I'm telling you this - and why I haven't told your father - is that Nathaniel…I really hurt him and he devastated me. Believe me, your father knows enough of my baggage and he has plenty of his own. I'm not trying to scare you, but…our lives are long and they're not easy. We who have human friends get to see most of them die…and usually their children and their children's children. It's a hard life and I'm so sorry that I put this upon you," Abby stammered pulling her daughter tight to her. "I love you, my girl, and I'm sorry."

"I love you too, Mom. And there's nothing to be sorry about. I don't blame you. I was the one that took that drink," April replied with sadness.

"Well, maybe if I would have explained things sooner, you wouldn't have," Abby admitted.

* * *

April pretended to sleep as her mom talked on the phone to her dad, relaying him all the good news.

"Tomorrow, hun…yeah she kept down the animal blood and she's feeling much better. I think we'll be ok to leave sometime tomorrow afternoon. We'll be home in time for dinner….Tell the boys I miss them. I love you too. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye," Abby said, clicking the phone shut.

April kept up her facade as she heard her mother crawl into the other bed, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to get comfy. She probably couldn't; her mom tossed and turned all night, probably because she was sleeping alone. Her parents very rarely slept apart.

Her heart ached for what her mother had been through; all the pain and the loss she suffered. As she tried to fall asleep, her mind focused on her mom's story and one vision; of a distraught young man praying for his own salvation and her mother being pushed away into the darkness, alone.

April couldn't sleep. The nightmare of her mom's story was at the tip of her mind. She didn't want to dream.

_'Think of something else….think of something else,' _she begged herself, urging her mind to find a happier thought.

And that's when _he_ appeared in her head. He was just as she had first seen him; leaning against a oak tree, his dark blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes shining in the moonlight. She could hear his musical laugh. Feel the touch of his cold fingers against her bare skin. Taste his lips upon her own. Sense his canines push against her lower lip as they kissed.

Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, unsure of her future but content in her dreams.


	9. Love Hunter

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/30/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

Thanks to her mother, her dreams were filled with fangs.

It was surprisingly nice for a while. He was there, his very presence a wonder. She couldn't help but be infatuated with him, even deep in the realm of sleep. That man was one of the most gorgeous ones she'd ever seen; even for a vampire. They were at the tree where they met, laying upon the wet grass under the starry night sky, comparing their pasts. He gracefully rolled onto his side to face her. His hand gently caressed her face, the chill of his palm causing shivers to run down her spine.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered with an attractive drawl. Her heart skipped at the words.

He shifted his eyes to the ground, a shy smile upon his lips. His cobalt eyes met her green.

"April," her name fell from his lips, "would it be too bold to ask your permission for a kiss?"

April's heart jumped at the request and he smiled. As he moved his head closer to hers, her heartbeat quickened. It wasn't that she had never been kissed before, but more that they never meant so much to her. He was different from all the boys at her high school. He saw her for who she really was; he saw her down to her very soul.

She raised her lips to his, savoring the chaste yet somehow passionate kiss. Although his lips moved innocently at first, he started to become more aggressive, moving his mouth from hers and down her throat. His lips were cold against her warm neck and she reveled in the feel of him against her. With intent, he continued kissing, applying more pressure than usual. She let out a pleasured gasp.

Her delight turned into panic as she felt his teeth pierce her skin. At first, it wasn't intolerable but, as he continued, the pain increased. April did her best to push him off, crying out for him to release her. Instead, he growled, pushing her down by the shoulders, pinning her to the wet ground. She struggled against his hands but he was much stronger. The blood gargled in her throat and her vision grew weaker. The last thing she saw through the haze was the man who had kissed her so sweetly with her blood running down his chin. Only, he looked sad. Before she blacked out, she could swear he whispered he was sorry.

"April!"

She jolted upright in her bed. Shaken and disoriented, she looked around the room to find it in disarray. The remnants of lamps lay in shards about the floor and her mother was slumped over in a heap against the wall, staring at her in disbelief. Abby ran to her, hissing in pain.

"Baby, are you ok," she asked, looking her daughter over from head to toe.

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. Just had a bad dream I guess," April answered, surveying the room. "Who...who did this?"

"You did. I woke up when I heard the first lamp move. You were having a bad dream and must have been using your powers in your sleep. I tried to wake you up; even tried shaking you. But, you freaked out and pushed me away."

"Did I make you hit the wall," she inquired feeling guilty already. Abby nodded yes. April pulled her knees up to her chest. Her mom told her it was ok, and reminded herself to teach her daughter how to control her powers.

"Do you want to talk about it, April?"

"No, Mom, I just wanna go home."

* * *

Dean sat on the couch watching Sammy and Jamie playing Guitar Hero. It was something they made sure to do at least once a week. He thought it was important for Sam and his son to have a relationship no matter what, albeit just uncle and nephew.

"Beat you again, Uncle Sam," Jamie said, tossing his hands up in victory. Jamie was not a gracious winner.

"Yeah, you did...again," Sam winked at Dean. He knew Sammy had been throwing the match.

With a huge grin on his face, Jamie asked if he could head down to his friend Kyle's place for a little while. Dean told him to go for it, but to be back by dinner. He knew Abby would wanna see her son sooner than later when she got home.

His son thanked him and headed out the door, leaving Dean, Sam and Dylan home.

"So it's just us men now," Dean boasted as Sam plopped down on the couch next to him. "So since it's just us guys...hey Dylan, put down the damn homework and hang out with us."

Dylan rolled his eyes and stood up, making his way to the fridge before he entered the living. He gave Sam and his dad a beer a piece and opened his own can of pop.

"Ya know, you could grab a brewski too," he said, lifting his own up.

"Dad, I would, but Mom is coming home and...she'd be pissed. Do you want to deal with that," his son asked with a smirk. The answer was no; absolutely not. Sam laughed.

"So, Dylan, what's new on the girl front," Dean asked as Dylan took a seat on the recliner. "You haven't brought anyone around since...what's her name?"

"Tara," he answered.

"Yeah, her. She was cute," Dean said, taking a chug. Dean was actually surprised by his choice. She was a cheerleader, blonde, gorgeous bod...and _totally_ not Dylan's type. But, he brought her around so that was all good. He was just glad that his wife didn't care about the eyecandy. "So, anyone new you're thinking of? You're a good-looking guy. Ya got my genes...you're probably beating off girls with a stick at school. There's gotta be someone, right?"

"Well," Dylan said, shifting forward, "there is this one girl, but she's not interested."

"Not interested," Dean said shocked.

"I've asked her out three times and she keeps tellin' me no."

"Ah. Playing hard to get. My advice, find a friend of hers and ask her out. It'll make her jealous and interested. Then she'll - "

"My advice," Sam jumped in, "Don't listen to anything your dad says about relationships."

"Hey," Dean took offense, "I had some in high school!"

"Hookups don't count as relationships, Dean. And that brilliant plan didn't work so well with Mindy and Terese, the twin cheerleaders, in high school, now did it," he asked with sarcasm.

Well, he got him with that one.

"Your Dad's just lucky he found your mom, Dylan. She loves him despite all the bullshit," Sam smirked.

Dean shrugged and took another sip of beer. He couldn't argue with that one either. His wife loved him even after all those years for who he was, flaws, Busty Asian Beauties and all. She was a keeper.

Dylan sighed and told them everything about his interest. She was a sophomore named Becky and wasn't part of the popular group of girls usually clamoring for him; she was an art student.

"She's smart, interesting, beautiful...I don't know," he replied, blushing slightly, running his hand through his mahogany hair. "She i_ntrigues_ me. But, every single time I ask her out she says no! I just don't get it!"

"Ask her for study help in whatever it is that she's good at," Dean suggested.

"Hey, that's not bad, Dad," Dylan admitted, playfully hitting his dad on his back. "Thanks."

"Not a problem. I did that once. She was _real_ good at anatomy," Dean smirked. Sam just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know, Dean, some things _never_ change."


	10. Consider This

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/30/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the delay! With New Years and a new job, it's been hard to find the time to write. Well, with out further ado, here is the next chapter!  
_

"Ab," he sighed with relief, taking her securely in his arms. Dean held her tight, soaking her in, reveling in her presence. Overall, he was just happy to have her home, _safe._ She squeezed him back in response, rubbing his lower back with tenderness. As if it had been years and not days that she was gone, he pulled her back to get a good look at her. She was dressed in dark, tight jeans and a white tank top, her hair gathered up in a messy pony tail. To Dean, she was absolute perfection and, quite frankly, he couldn't wait to get her alone and take those clothes off of her. But, before dirty thoughts about his wife could commence, his daughter came into view.

"Hi Daddy," April said softly, walking cautiously towards her father, her eyes down to the floor.

"Hey baby," he responded, taking her for an awkward hug. No doubt, there was still plenty of unresolved tension. April still knew she was in mucho trouble. "Go upstairs and get some sleep, kid. By the way, you're still grounded."

"I know," she grumbled before wishing her parents good night and heading up to her room.

Dean smiled and drew Abby close to him again, giving her a sweet kiss, running his hands affectionately down her back.

"Welcome home, babe," he grinned.

"Thanks," she smirked up at him. "Glad to see everything survived with out me here."

"So, how was the trip? Is she ok now," Dean asked with concern, his eyes glancing up the hardwood stairs to her room.

"Overall she's, ok. But..."

"But? Why is there always a but," he asked out loud.

"But, she's been having some pretty rough nightmares. I'm thinking it's from the changes going through her body all at once. Like, when she first hit puberty. Remember?"

Dean didn't wanna remember _that_. April had been a complete lunatic. She'd cry over the tiniest things and then the next minute freak out, screeching like a banshee and, unfortunately, he knew what that sounded like. But, Abby was right; April did have trouble sleeping during that oh-too-hormonal time in her life.

He just nodded, trying to burn those horrible thoughts from his mind, and asked Abby if their daughter had relayed any information about the dreams. Abby shrugged, saying April seemed horribly frightened about them, but refused to talk about them. She did inform him though that she made April put on her hex amulet when she slept to avoid any unintended outbursts of her power. Dean agreed that was a good idea, especially at home with her brothers down the hall from her room.

He was pleasantly surprised that his wife had actually enjoyed the bonding time with their daughter.

"I don't know...I just feel closer to her. We share something so secret, ya know? I also gave her the combo to the big fridge downstairs," she revealed. "So she'll be able to get fed on her own. I'll just have to remember to buy enough of the red stuff for the two of us. But seriously, Dean, all we basically did is talk. It was oddly enjoyable."

"That's good to hear," he smirked, happy to see his adorable wife smile again.

"Well, except April thinks Dylan should know."

Dean doubled over in laughter. He couldn't help himself. Even if they told Dylan, he would just think they were over the cuckoo's nest. His son was very scientific in nature; very he'll 'believe it when he sees it' for a teenager. Abby shook her head at his thought.

"Well, Dean, I do have a solution for that," she responded. He couldn't read her mind, but from her expression, he didn't like where she was goin'. "What if you and Sam..."

"Uh huh," he muttered, already pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Take Dylan with you on a hunt," she shrugged, her statement sounding almost like a question.

"Uh uh, no freakin' way! Ab, that is the dumbest idea you have - ," he started, too pissed to finish his statement. She followed behind, grabbing his arms tight, forcing him to stand still in front of her.

"Listen, I don't like it anymore than you do. It's dangerous, and you're right, it's stupid. But something April said made sense. Maybe, if she woulda known earlier, she wouldn't have taken that drink. You don't want Dylan to go through what she is going through, right?"

"No," he sighed in defeat, knowing full well that April's life was altered forever.

"Well, then, I think you should. Look, you don't have to take on a real dangerous one."

"Real dangerous," Dean gaffed, "I don't know where you've been lately, but they're all pretty freakin' dangerous."

Abby went to her bag, searching for something in particular, before pulling a manila folder.

"Here," she said, placing the file in his hands. "Mysterious deaths after some people pick up a hitchhiking ghost. Sound familiar?"

The type of case did; it was the first case he and Sammy had worked on a lone together in Jericho, California.

"It's close. It's like forty-five minutes north of here in a western burb of Chicago. That way, if something goes amiss, I can pop on in to help."

He just nodded in response. He wasn't cool about the idea, at all, but that could wait. There was plenty of time to discuss it later. Right then, he just wanted to be with his wife. But, before he could get his arms around her, she started upstairs.

"Where are you goin'?"

"To take a shower," she smiled playfully. "I haven't had one today and I feel filthy."

He watched her intently as she bounded up the stairs, every perfect curve of her body visible under her tight clothes. All of a sudden, he felt pretty dirty too. Dean smirked as he heard the water turn on as he headed up the stairs.


	11. Touch Too Much

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/14/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: This Chapter is one rated M for Mature. So, beware! ;-) BTW, new Supernatural Episodes start up again tomorrow! Yay! Hope you all enjoy the chapter._

She sighed happily as the warm, soapy water cascaded down her body. It felt good to be alone in the quiet stillness, completely unencumbered. That is, until she heard the bathroom door creak open deliberately slow. Abby rolled her eyes. He had to have known she heard it. She could hear the soft ruffling of his clothes as he slid them down to the floor. There wasn't one part of her that thought Dean was trying to be sneaky. Honestly, how in the bloody hell did he think he'd be able to get past her undetected?

She didn't turn around as he approached. _After all, what fun would it be to let him know she heard_, she thought with a smirk. At the first sign of a rustle on the shower curtain, she pounced, pulling him into the shower and pinning him to the shower wall.

Abby could feel his heart pounding through his chest as she pressed herself up against him.

"Gotcha," she smiled.

"Holy. Crap," he panted. "Wasn't expectin' that."

"Consider this a training mission. If I had been any other vampire," she teased, tapping his nose. "You'd be _dead_, my friend." She protested through her laughter as he reached to her ribs, tickling her at the right spot that put her in hysterics. Damn. He knew her far too well.

Dean flipped their positions, restraining her against the wet tile, still persisting in his torture.

"Sanctuary," she giggled loudly, hoping it would stop him in his cruel pursuit.

"I don't think so," he said, his fingers skimming her skin with more fervor. She squirmed beneath his touch, her stomach in pain from laughing. His fingers slowed their pace against her torso, causing her to utter a sigh of relief. The same hands that had been a weapon of torture now glided over her skin with such devotion and care.

"You're so beautiful," Dean whispered, focusing on her body. Abby's eyes focused on her husbands loving gaze as his hands gently explored her curves. His touch was soft, almost as if he was skimming the surface of an ocean he was so familiar with. She gasped as his feather-like touch reached the inner thigh.

His smile turned from adoring to wanting. His heartbeat quickened in his chest and his breathe became ragged. He needed her. She happily reciprocated.

Abby pulled his face to hers, meeting his lips as they had thousands of times before. Her mouth fit perfectly in the contours of his own, savoring the taste of him. She felt the familiar tingling sensation as he moaned against her lips. Dean's tongued flicked inside her mouth, caressing her own tenderly, seemingly begging for touch. She stroked his with hers, their tongues dancing with one another as their hands roamed over their bodies.

Dean's hands moved from her thighs, snaking up her body, until he reached her chest. He caressed her gently, kneading the supple flesh of her breasts. Abby gasped as his finger grazed across her nipple. Then, suddenly, he pulled away and jumped out of the shower.

"Hey," she panted, pulling the shower curtain back to see him standing naked in the bathroom. "What the hell?!"

"That's for what you did to me when I got into the shower," he smirked devilishly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's not fair," she protested. "GOD! Dean, you're such a tease!"

He smiled triumphantly at her, dripping water onto the tile floor below.

_'Oh dear,'_ she thought. Was it possible that he looked better wet? Apparently it was, because her husband looked like a _sex god._

With a knowing smile, and a growl in her chest, she pounced on him from the bathe. Abby gently pushed him to the floor, positioning herself on top of him.

"Tisk, tisk," she shook her head. "You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, now, did you?"

"Well…it's not like I really wanted to get away," he smiled, pulling her chin down to his, smothering her mouth with a kiss. "You just needed to be taught a lesson."

"Oh, really? So that's what you're into tonight," she flirted. "Well, it's payback time, babe."

His eyes widened as she pinned his wrists down with one hand to the tile above his head as the other tiptoed down his body, tickling his navel as she passed. Abby made sure to keep eye contact as her hand took his throbbing length, stroking it firmly. Dean grunted with pleasure, his eyes filled with desire. She smiled, continuing her assault on his body, loving every moan and whimper he made.

"Ok, Abby, that's enough," he groaned, trying to move his hands from her grasp.

"Uh uh," she purred provocatively. "I didn't get to tell you what I really want…"

"And that is," he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. His eyes rolled back into his head as her hand picked up its pace.

"You. Inside me. Now," Abby said in her best seductress voice.

With that, he found the strength to push her hands away from his own. Dean quickly lift her petite form off the floor onto his lap, pushing her down quickly. She gasped as she took in the full length of him all at once.

"How's that," he sighed into her shoulder as he started to move in and out of her. Abby moaned loudly as they rocked together as one, the delightful friction creating the wonderful tightening in her center. She sat up higher on his lap, wrapping her legs carefully around him, positioning herself so he hit that spot deep inside that made the sensations ten fold. She matched his deep thrusts with her hips, grinding down on him, savoring in the look on his face as she slithered on his lap. Both their paces became more rushed, the tightening increasing to an almost unbearable level. Dean pushed her down harder, hitting that tender spot far within her.

"Oh, Abby, come for me," he begged, his face planting kisses against her chest. His mouth moved up her breast to her neck and he bit down lightly. That was her undoing. She cried out as the contraction released into that euphoric pleasure. Her mind blanked as the delicious pulsation wracked through her body. She was only brought back briefly as she felt him release inside her. Abby kissed his neck gently, her lips leaving a trail up to his ear.

"I love you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him.

He smiled at her, rubbing her back lovingly.

"I love you, too," he panted between breathes, brushing his lips against hers.

"You're all sweaty," she laughed moving her hands over his chest.

"Well, you know, I had quite a workout," he smirked devilishly, grabbing her bottom in his hands. "You know, we could 'shower' again."

With a giggle, Abby planted herself on her feet, helping Dean up in the process. She turned to face him and sauntered back into the shower, feeling very much like a temptress. Gracefully, she pivoted to face him again, her mind filled with his erotic thoughts.

Abby placed her hand purposefully on her hip and motioned with her other hand for him to join her. He smiled that adorable smile she cherished, and jumped back into the shower, taking her securely in his arms once again.

* * *

April smirked down at the twenty-dollar bill before stuffing it into her pockets. She'd have to really, really thank her dad for that later. Well, and the fact that he let her outta the house. Dean could never keep up when it came to punishment. Not five minutes after she was in her room, she had a muffled knock at the door.

"A.C., I'm letting you off the hook for a little while. Here's 20," he said, handing her the bill through the door. Her dad barely looked at her, keeping his attention towards the master bedroom door. April could hear the running water from her mother's shower from a mile away. That's when the realization hit her.

"Ewe, gross, Dad!"

"Look," he started, turning his attention back to his daughter, "I know you have like super freaky hearing now, and I figured you wouldn't want to be here when that went down ok? Now get outta here. But, I don't want to hear anything about you hunting or hanging out with unnatural people. Go to the mall or something...but maybe you should try to avoid a lot of people if you know what I mean."

"Can I take my car," she smiled innocently.

"Sure, go for it," he said, his eyes focused down the hall. "But tomorrow, you're back to grounding. Got it?"

"Got it," she said almost too excited, grabbing her purse and running down the stairs and out the door. She had the car started in ten seconds flat. The familiar roar of her beloved Mustang was like being reunited with a companion.

In reality, it probably was her only companion. Any Lamia friends she had just recently made had managed to betray her already. But, why?

Unfortunately, curiosity eats away at the brain and becomes an obsession. Once you get the thoughts in your head, you_ need_ to find out. So, hesitantly, she picked up the phone and dialed his number.

"Hello," his voice sounded, smoothing over her like velvet.

"Hey, it's -"

"April. I know," he chuckled. Her heart skipped at the mention of her name, as if he were always meant to say it. "Haven't heard from you in a few days. What's wrong?"

_'What's wrong,'_ she thought. _Everything._ "Listen, I need to talk to you sometime soon."

"I'm not too busy now. I've got a few to talk over the pho-," he started before she interrupted him.

"No, we need to talk in person. Where are you?"

"We're working a job in Chicago. How 'bout you," he asked.

Chicago. That seemed like too much of a coincidence. After all, did he know she lived out in the burbs? Was he just lying about a job?

"I'll meet you at Millennium Park in an hour," she said before hanging up the phone.

"Alright," he drawled. "I'll be there."

"And Jesse?"

"Yeah, April?"

"Don't tell Wesley we're meeting. Ok," she pleaded.

"I promise I won't tell a soul. See you soon," he said with a slight edge of excitement.

April snapped her phone shut and tried desperately to concentrate on her driving. She turned on her Ipod in her car, trying to drown out his voice from her head. He did sound like he was anticipating her visit, but what awaited her she could only imagine. The imagines from her nightmare flashed through her mind. His eyes. His skin in the moonlight. His lips. Her heart pounded at the very thought of it. But, then there were the other parts. The tearing. The screaming. The blackness. His apology at the end.

It was risky meeting him alone, but it was necessary. She needed answers. She had to know why they didn't reveal everything and doomed her to be a creature of the night.

April shook her head and cranked up "Back in Black," and sped towards the City.


	12. Where Were You

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/17/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

April hurried past the people enjoying the warm, Spring night air in Chicago. Her own mind was too busy to enjoy it. She strolled swiftly towards the back of the park, absent of most people. Isolated. Lake Michigan was visible from the spot she stopped on the grounds, the calmness of its waters somewhat soothing.

"Hello, April," he said from behind her. Her heart skipped. He chuckled warmly.

"Hello, Jesse," she said back, squeezing her eyes shut, not turning around to look at him. She was nervous. After her nightmares, she wasn't sure what was real. Should she trust him? Was her intuition telling her something? And yet, she felt if she looked at him, that resolve would falter. It would betray her.

"So, you said you wanted to talk," he asked softly.

She sighed in response, trying to think of a way to bring it up. April decided the best thing for both of them was to be blunt; just let it all out. "I'll be brief. I just need an answer and then I'll go. I just wanna know why, Jesse?"

"Why what?" He stared at her in confusion, his head slightly cocked.

"Why did you let me…take that blood? You knew what would happen," she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hands squeezed her upper arms and would no doubt leave angry fingerprints on her own flesh with the strength of her grip. She didn't realize how incredibly angry…no, angry wasn't the right word. She was positively _livid_. How dare he ask _what_?! It was _his_ silence that had cost her a 'normal' future. It was _his_ silence that doomed her existence, now for all eternity. And, his silence once again made her angry.

She spun around quickly, pinning him against a tree before he could guess her attack.

"Are you _insane_," he scolded, his blue eyes wide. "Someone could have _seen _you! _Never_ use you speed or strength in the open! There are hunters _everywhere _who would slice off that pretty little head of yours in an instant!"

She released her grip on him, standing in front of him trembling, trying to appear as a couple fighting over something more insignificant then what the battle really was about.

"Why did you let me," April pleaded for an answer, her eyes to the ground. Before she could catch it, she sank to her knees as her legs gave out from underneath. "I don't want to live this way."

Jesse sat down beside her on the cold, wet grass. He hesitated in his movements, gauging her reaction to his intended gesture. Moments later, his finger touched softly grazed her chin, lifting it up so his eyes met her own. Jesse's sad gaze penetrated deep into her soul; he didn't need to speak for her to know his true feelings. He was truly sorry. His lips moved as if to speak and stopped, trying to find the right words was the most difficult task. Instead, he sighed, and moved her raven hair back from her face.

She shivered under his touch, thinking back to the first night they had spent together. It was a few days after she had met Wesley and Jesse, the two best friends who worked together. April had stayed with them, learning about what it took as both a vampire and a hunter. One night, under a moonlight sky, she and Jesse and stayed up till dawn and talked. They discussed things about their pasts as well as dreams of the future. She had never felt so at ease with someone, let alone a vampire, before. He made her feel safe.

That night, he had kissed her. It was chaste in nature, very innocent, yet, it still lingered in her mind as the best she had ever had. Maybe it was her new vampire senses talking, but his lips against her own had created a warmth down her body that no other boy had ever accomplished.

"April," he started again, running his fingers through her hair, "I - I honestly thought you knew…about that stuff. You said you were a hunter. I thought you knew about what would happen. If - if I would have know that you were unaware, I would have stopped Wesley. I'm sorry."

He looked like he could cry. Jesse was genuinely repentant for what had happened.

"I wish I could change it," he sighed with an apparent ache. "I wish I could! I wish I could protect you from what we are…what I am. I wouldn't wish this on anyone, most especially you."

Brilliant blue eyes met her green, and she felt a spark with in her. April felt a _strange_. She was at ease, no longer afraid and to top it all off, she wanted to kiss him. Her mind was infatuated by his very presence.

His hand moved from her long hair and down her arms, caressing them softly, his chilled hands tingling her body. She felt herself moving backwards on the grass almost on instinct as he laid down beside her, rolling gracefully onto his side to face her. His hand gently caressed her cheek, the chill of his palm causing shivers to run down her spine.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered with an attractive drawl. Her heart skipped at the words.

He shifted his eyes to the ground, a shy smile upon his lips. His cobalt eyes met her green.

"April," her name fell from his lips, "would it be too bold to ask your permission for a kiss?"

April's heart jumped at the request and he smiled. As he moved his head closer to hers, her heartbeat quickened. She raised her lips to meet his, savoring the pure yet somehow extremely passionate kiss.

Although his lips moved innocently at first, he started to become more aggressive, moving his mouth from hers and down her throat. His lips were cold against her warm neck and she reveled in the feel of him against her. With intent, he continued kissing, applying more pressure than usual. She let out a pleasured gasp.

Her delight turned into panic as she remembered her nightmare. Her eyes shot open with realization. Instantly, she pushed him away. April sat straight up, her heart thudding in her chest, checking her neck for puncture marks.

"Are - are you ok," Jesse asked with concern, keeping his distance. "Your heart is pounding like you're in trouble."

"I'll be OK," she somehow managed to say in her frightened state, not really believing what she was saying herself. "I need - I need to go." She struggled to get up on her own until two hands gently picked her up onto her feet.

"I'm sorry," Jesse apologized again with sincerity. "I think I moved a little too fast there. Did I scare you?"

"A little," she admitted, refusing to mention her nightmare. After all, it was only a dream. Perhaps she was just thinking about a great fear. She hadn't been frightened until that memory had resurfaced. Before that was only bliss.

He walked to her car in silence, politely opening the driver door for her. She nodded in thanks and hurriedly sat down. April watched him reluctantly walk away before he pivoted around and knocked on the driver window. She cautiously rolled it down.

"Hey, do you mind if I call on you sometime," Jesse asked with embarrassment.

"Sure, you do already -"

"No, I meant call _on _you. I guess you guys don't use those terms anymore, huh," he smirked. "It means, after this whole fear settles down, could I call you for a date?"

"Uh - sure," she said befuddled, her face turning a little red.

"Alright," he drawled with a crooked smile and turned to leave again. "And April...everything I said to you that night in Pennsylvania...I meant it. Every word. Be careful."

April couldn't help but look at him in her mirror as she drove off. He was…_perfect_. Polite. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. Affectionate. Strong. And yet, she couldn't help the nagging feeling, eating away at her mind that kept repeating he was dangerous. There was something about him that scared the living hell out of her.


	13. Say You Will

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/17/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"Thanks for the help," Dylan smiled through his strands of brown hair. "Art isn't really my thing."

"No prob," Becky replied, placing the easel down in front of him, giving him a strange look. Dylan couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Becky thought he was weird. The fact was, he wasn't. He was as normal as could be. Well, except for the straight As thing…and being good at every sport he tried…and the ability to have any girl he wanted at his disposal. The problem was, the one girl he wanted didn't want him.

"Here," she said, handing him a palette and brush. She rolled out a cart with some jars of liquid. "This is to clean your brush," she pointed out. "And this is linseed oil. Mix the colors on the palette like this." Becky leaned around him, mixing the blue and red to make a shade of purple. She then showed him how he could make a spectrum for his specific subject; a vase and some flowers.

"Watch me," she ordered as she painting the same subject on her own canvas. Her hands were graceful in itheir strokes and he was mesmerized. He watched her move and the image that exploded on the canvas in a few minutes was nothing short of a masterpiece in his eyes. Sure, it was basic, but it had presence. It moved him.

She tilted her head curiously at him, her gray-blue eyes sparkling through her wavy, dark brown strands.

"Got it," she mocked, handing him the brush. "Hope you were paying attention."

"I think I can manage," he smirked, giving her a wink. She rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. "But I think I want to start with a more…intriguing subject." His eyes focused on her.

"Me," she asked. Becky doubled over with laughter. "You want your first painting to be of a person?"

"You in particular," he smiled, pointing the brush at her. "Come on."

"Fine," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Where do you want me?"

"Sit on that couch over there," Dylan pointed to the old red couch at the back of the art room. "Just lounge on it."

Becky unceremoniously plopped down before laying across it, throwing her arm over her head dramatically.

"Do you like the pose," she joked.

"Very Scarlet O'Hara," he smirked, getting his paint colors ready for his work. He matched the dark mahogany of her hair. The bluish gray of her eyes. The paleness of her skin. The pink of her lips.

He worked feverishly, almost too quickly. She had a hint of a smile on her lips as he worked. Dylan was sure she was thinking there was going to be a stick figure and a mess of paint. What she didn't know was that his mom didn't raise an uncultured son.

Dark strands fell through his vision as he worked on the remaining curves of her body. As he painted, he noticed how truly perfect she was. Everything that he had been mesmerized by before, he was now ten fold. Even the little catch with every breathe was…beautiful.

"Are you done with that monstrosity yet," she teased.

He made one more final stroke of the brush before announcing he was done.

She bounded off the couch and ran over to the canvas. Dylan held back his smug laughter as she took a look at the painting. He wasn't sure of her reaction, but he certainly wasn't prepared for a whack on the back of the head.

"You're such a jerk, Winchester," she yelled before thwacking his skull again.

"Ow," he yelped, grabbing her wrist before she could hit him again. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong," she spat, pointing at the painting. "You don't need help in art, that's what's wrong!"

"Why is that wrong? Maybe I just wanted a chance to know you because you wouldn't give me the time of day!"

"_That's_ wrong," she pointed to his canvas.

"Why is _that _wrong," he yelled with frustration.

"Because it's beautiful!"

"Well that's how I see you," Dylan defended. She rolled her eyes.

"Why are you here, Winchester? For real. Was it for a quick lay, because I'm not gonna become a cheap skank just because you drew a pretty picture," she spat, hurriedly packing up her supplies.

His heart sank at her words, his intention of their meeting far from her thoughts. Dylan walked cautiously to her side, taking in a deep breathe before continuing.

"Don't just run off, Beck. Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you better. I would never just want to meet with you for a hook up. I'm not like that…and I think you're a sweet girl," he smiled.

She took in a deep breathe, sighing with a tremble. Her shoulders sagged in a silent defeat.

"Dylan, you could have any girl in this school."

"I don't want any girl. Sure, girls come up to me all the time…but," he sighed, "I wanted to find someone with substance and grace…and as you put it, not a cheap skank." He smiled at her as she turned around to face him, more relaxed.

"Well, I'm definitely not one of _those_."

He smirked and cautiously moved his hands to hers. She let him take it, her breathe hitching as he brought his other hand to her face. Dylan couldn't help but grin as he caressed her cheek.

"Would you go out with me sometime," he asked without hesitation. "Nothing crazy. Just very casual but nice. How's that?"

"Oh Hell, what do I got to lose, right? Sure," she accepted. His heart could have burst from happiness.

* * *

Dean high-fived his son.

"Alright, good job! Told you that would work," Dean smirked.

"Well it almost, didn't, Dad," Dylan huffed. "She didn't like that I had to lie to her."

"Yeah, usually girls don't like that," Abby added, handing her son a soda. "Who would have thought your Dad's dating advice would actually work? I'm shocked! I can't wait to meet this girl, Dylan, I am so happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Well, whatever," Dean smiled, hands behind his head. "It worked so Sammy owes me twenty bucks. So, when are you going to go out with her?"

"I was going to call her tonight and tell her to be ready Saturday night."

Abby cleared her throat from her seat on the chair, staring intently at Dean.

"What," he asked.

"Saturday," she questioned, nodding her head towards Dylan.

"What guys," Dylan asked in confusion. There was obviously something going on that he wasn't aware of.

"Keep this weekend open, kid," Dean started, leaning forward on the couch beside him. "Me, you and Sammy are going on a trip."

"A trip," he said, almost spitting out his soda. "For what? We're not going hunting or fishing are we?"

Dean chuckled to himself. "I guess you could say that."


	14. You Better Realize

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/17/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," Dean reassured her as he tossed the last worn duffel bag into the trunk. After slamming the car shut, he turned with a smile towards his wife, who was worried no matter what she was trying to put across to him. "We'll take good care of him."

"I know," she smiled awkwardly. "But you know how I am."

"Come here," he gestured to her, pulling her into his arms. Abby wrapped her own around him, squeezing him securely but not too tight. He put his chin against her shoulder as he caressed her back, trying his damnedest to soothe her. "I know you're nervous," he whispered, kissing her cheek before he began again. "We'll be good. I'll protect him, ok? Besides, hunting is in his blood…and he's still part vamp. I can't recall a time when he was little that he even got hurt. We'll all be golden. Ok?"

He pulled her out at arms length to get a good look at her. She nodded somberly with her head down. He lifted her chin up so his gaze met hers and flashed her an adorable smile, knowing it would help her relax. Swiftly, she pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him deeply.

"I love you," she sighed, her cool breathe against his lips. "Just promise me you'll come back to me in one piece," Abby asked, playing with the collar of his jacket.

"I love you too, babe…and I promise. I'm a man of my word." He gave her hand one final squeeze before he jumped into the Impala's driver seat. "We all set," he asked Sam and glanced at his son's image in the rear view mirror.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam answered. "Let's go."

"Wait, not yet," Dean said, reaching for his tape collection and putting in a Rush cassette.

"Dad, seriously," Dylan sighed from the backseat. "_Rush_ on tape? You need to upgrade."

Sam snickered, relaying to Dylan that he tried long ago to change Dean's mullet-rock ways to no avail.

_'Damn straight,' _Dean thought smugly. He gunned the engine and watched Abby's form disappear from view in the mirror. He really didn't know why she was so worried. After all, he and Sammy still went on hunts at least twice a month. It had to have been because her baby boy, their boy, was with them.

Dean looked at his son in the back seat. Dylan laid his head back on the back of the bench, an arm thrown over his eyes. He was pissed. Dean felt bad that his son had to call that chick and postpone the date for a few days. Instead, he was being dragged on a trip with his dad and uncle. Even he would be particularly annoyed.

"Where are we going," Dylan muttered from the backseat.

"Not too far. We'll be there in under an hour," he said, swearing at the traffic on the highway.

Dylan sat up a little straighter in his seat before asking Dean what there was to hunt just outside of Chicago.

"I thought we'd be at least goin' into Wisconsin or something, Dad. So, I'm wrong?"

"Yeah," Dean shot back, not wanting to into anymore details yet. He concentrated on the road, the lights from the oncoming traffic almost blinding. He looked at the dashboard to see the time. Seven at night. Only three hours till Dylan would know a new life. It made Dean feel like shit.

"So," Sam interrupted the silence. "Before this, when was the last time you were on a road trip?"

"I don't consider going an hour north to be a road trip, Sammy," Dylan quipped.

"I meant with your Dad, you dork," he chuckled.

"God," his son thought. "A while. It must have been that trip we all took to Disney World. I don't remember how long ag -"

"It was about six years ago," Dean chimed in. "You and April were about eleven and Jamie was five. That was a fun time."

"Yeah, if we didn't have to drive all the way there in the Impala. Sure, it's roomy, but the air conditioning didn't work. I remember that much," Dylan chuckled softly. "Hey, Dad, why didn't we just fly there?"

Sam laughed hard from the front seat before Dean smacked him on the shoulder. Dylan looked at them cockeyed.

"Your Dad's afraid to fly," Sam finally admitted.

"Hey - it's a legitimate fear," Dean defended. "Lot's of people have it. Plus I just like to drive ok? I feel more in control."

"Well, Dad, you know you have more chances of being in a car accident than you do in a plane, right?"

Dean thought about that in his head. He had been in more of those than plane crashes…but he had been on a plane that was about to crash before. Nope. He'd still rather take his chances driving. Besides, his car was a beast. His baby could take a hell of a lotta damage.

"Hey, we had a good time," Dean added. "That was the first time I had been down there. At the Mouse's place I mean."

"Yeah, it was pretty cool. Even the ride there wasn't that bad..," Dylan said.

"Oh I remember it being pretty bad. You and April…OVER and OVER…'he's touching me,' 'it's too hot,' 'she's in my space!' Christ, I thought your mom was gonna turn around and whack all three of you straight across!"

"Well, I remember Mom making you pull over and stop in Tennessee when you wanted to drive straight through to Orlando."

"Well, your Mom also knows I can drive for a long time, so I'm still kinda pissed about that."

"Dean," Sam said, "It was six years ago. Get over it."

"Whatever, Sam. I'm just glad that I got that picture takin' with all the princesses. That was awesome."

"Dad, is that the photo in the living room where you're in the middle of them giving two thumbs up," Dylan laughed.

"The one and only," Dean smiled at him via the mirror. Sam joined in with the laughter.

"You're such a pimp," Dylan teased.

"You have no idea," Dean muttered under his breathe so no one could hear.

"There is one thing I remembered that I was always curious about," Dylan started. "On the way back, we stopped just into Georgia for a few days. You and Mom left me in charge of the sibs in the hotel room a few times and you two were out for a good while. What was up with that?"

Dean reflected back to it. Then it hit him. On the way back, Bobby had relayed them a case out in Macon. It was an old Civil War Confederate ghost who was terrorizing the town, killing northern men who decided to head down south on vacation. Luckily, it took two days and he and Abby were able to figure out who the soldier was and salt and burn the bones…or what was left of them anyways.

"Funny you should bring that up," Dean smirked. "Kinda fits into what we have to show you tonight."

"Dean," Sam said, pointing to his right. "Look, that's the forest preserve she's seen at. We still got a few hours until she's supposed to appear."

Dean found a secluded spot that faced the place the girl was supposed to materialize and placed the car in park. Dylan looked at them with confusion. The kid had no fucking clue as to what was going on.

"So, we're hunting a 'she' in the forest preserve? What's goin' on?"

The brothers both turned in their seats, facing the nervous boy in the backseat. Dean took in a long breathe before he continued.

"That night in Macon, the night me and your mom left you in charge…," he sighed. Sam nodded and gave him a reassuring nod. "Abby and I got a case about a ghost."

"Case? A ghost," Dylan shrugged. "Are those code words for drugs or something? Is that it? Are you guys drug dealers?"

"No," Dean spat, offended by his son's accusations. "It was a ghost. A real one. We had to take care of it. That's what we do. Me, your mom, and Sammy here. We hunt supernatural things. We save people. "

Dylan nodded in response before rolling over onto his side in hysterics. The brothers sat in silence as the teen realized that they weren't laugin' with him.

"Here," Sam said, tossing him Dad's journal to the backseat. "Take a look at that. It was our Dad's and it's all true. He taught us to do what we do."

His son rolled his eyes and carefully opened the worn book, the pages barely staying in place. He kept his attention on him, watching his expressions as he continued through the pages. His face was unreadable; vacant. Dean kept focus on him, ready to intervene if it was too much to absorb all at once. He'd seen normal people's reactions to this type of knowledge before, and they never was good.

Sam sat quietly next to him with, going over information on the case. The girl was a typical woman in white, letting single men pick her up. Only, she didn't necessarily kill them…but would eventually make them go insane and beg them to join her in the afterlife. Most of the poor saps had committed suicide. Dean couldn't wait to get rid of the chick.

* * *

Dylan slammed the book shut after getting about half-way through. He'd read enough.

"So," Dean said, his arm over the back of the front seat.

"So," Dylan replied, tossing the journal to his Dad. "They're the ramblings of a crazy man."

"Hey! Don't talk about your granddad that way," his father pointed the book at him. "He was a good man. A smart man."

"Are you kidding me? Did he raise you to be like this," Dylan said, putting his arms out to his sides. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Two grown adult males believing in the supernatural? _That _was truly unbelievable! "Dad…things like ghosts, werewolves…VAMPIRES…_they're just not scientifically possible!_ According to science, they can't exist!"

"Will you just stop with the scientific bullshit for just a minute," his dad yelled in frustration. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in and believe me, I don't want you to have to know what I know is real! It's not your burden - "

"Dean," Sam said to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned towards his nephew. "Dylan, we know this is hard to think it's possible. We grew up in this. It's creepy, and scary, but we've - Dyl, I've known this my whole life and I still can't believe it. All I'm asking is to trust us and suspend your believe just for tonight…ok?"

He didn't want to. To tell the truth, Dylan wanted to bolt for home, but, the look on his dad and uncle's faces were so genuine and almost moving. He sighed and gave in. After all, what harm could a little ghost story actually do.


	15. Sad But True

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/17/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

"I have to drive," Dylan questioned with a annoyed sigh in the driver seat.

"Yeah, the chick only comes out when a single guy drives by. Well, since Sam and I are have the ole' ball-and-chains, that would mean you, kid."

"Ball and chains. Classy, Dean," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Dylan huffed, giving his dad a half-assed salute.

"Grow up," Dean ordered. "If this is all fake, what do ya got to lose? Besides, this will be the first and last time you will ever drive my car. Enjoy." His dad slammed the car door before getting into the backseat with his brother. "Christ why am I letting him drive," his dad whispered to himself. The man was sure fucking neurotic about his car.

"Fine. What do I have to do," he asked the elder statesmen.

"Drive East towards the cemetery on Archer. The reports say she usually appears before the graveyard."

Dylan put the keys in the ignition, having trouble starting the car.

"You're hurting her," Dean grumbled from the back seat. "Try putting her in neutral first!"

He rolled his eyes and did was his dad instructed. The car purred to life. His dad sighed with relief.

Dylan did as he was told, driving East aimlessly. No girl. No cemetery even. It was beginning to feel like a big waste of time. He spun the car around, traveling west, back towards the highway. He didn't know why he would sit and put up with his obviously psychotic family's bullshit. Home and Becky were both in that direction, and that's where he was going.

"What the fuck," Dean yelped, sitting forward in the backseat.

"I'd put your seatbelt on, Dad."

"Dylan, what are you doing," Sam asked with concern. Dylan just gunned the engine more.

He floored the Impala, taking it past one hundred on the odometer, surprised that it kept together under that much stress. Speaking of stress, his dad screamed every expletive known to man from the back.

"Pull the fuck over NOW, DYLAN! You're gonna fucking kill us!"

"Dean, he's freaking out," Sam whispered to his brother.

_He_ wasn't freaking out. _He_ was the only one being rational.

"No, Dad. We're fucking going home and I'm havin' a talk with Mom…you two are _not sane_! You guys need help! We'll get rid of all the brainwashing your dad did to you two…"

That's when he saw her; a blonde girl appeared up the road ahead. She looked out of place. Her style of dress seemed dated, her hair was up in rolled waves. The whole scene seemed like right outta a history book. And, as his dad and uncle had predicted, she was dressed in white. She was disheveled, her dress half off her shoulder, her stockings torn.

She appeared as any hitchhiker would, except for an unearthly sheen to her skin. It was almost completely devoid of color; her pallor was deathly.

Her chest didn't move, showing no signs of variation from breathing. The healthy pink that should be on her lips was replaced with a smeared red lipstick over a skin tone of blue.

"What do I do," Dylan asked softly, suddenly feeling like a drunk having to pretend to be sober.

"Pull over," Sam said, "She can't get in the car. We put iron in the frame when we rebuilt it. We need to get a good look at her or figure out a name. Then we can go from there. This information is important."

"Sure," Dylan said. Perhaps the girl was just a normal, human, girl. Perhaps she had just come from a costume party…in Spring.

Dylan stopped the car and the girl stopped beside him. She still looked ahead down the road.

"Talk to her," Sam whispered.

"H-ey," he stammered. "I'm Dylan."  
_'And crazy,' his thoughts added._

The girl, who had to be no more than twenty, turned towards him.  
"Hello," she said in a sweet voice. "I'm Anne."

"You - you look like you need some help, Anne" he hurriedly said, taking a gulp afterward.

"I need a ride, Dylan. He," she paused, seeming sad as she looked down at her torn dress. "He pushed me out of the car. I don't know how I'm going to get home."

The timbre in her voice was devastating. From the tear stains on her face and the dried blood on her sliced garment, it was clear what had happened to her. And it seemed that not only her body, but her soul, was ravished.

"Dylan, could you take me home," she asked with a sign of hope in her eyes.

He almost said yes.

"We can't…sorry," Sam said from the backseat.

Her head snapped away from Dylan's and peered into the backseat. As soon as she noticed other people in the car, she vanished. Poof. Gone. Completely dematerialized in front of his shocked eyes.

His heart pounded in his chest and he could swear his eyes were foggy.

'_That did not just happen. There was no way. No way. It can't happen. Things just don't disappear. It can't happen. I'm losing my mind…'_

"Dylan," his dad yelled somewhere in the back of his thoughts. "Son, pull over."

_'Pull over,' _he questioned. He was pulled over.

"Dylan, slow down. You're goin' too fast," Dean's voice muffled in the distant haze of his thoughts.

"Dean, reach over the seat and grab the wheel! I'll flip over into shotgun and get my foot on the brake."

As Sam made his way over the seat and his dad grabbed the wheel, he came to…just in time to see a ghostly figure in the middle of the road. She stood in the path of the vehicle, shivering in the cold, her voice carrying on the wind, asking for a way home. Only, this time, she looked scared…and angry.

"Why won't you stop! Why won't you take me home," she begged in a screeching pitch.

Head in her hands, she darted across the road into the lane of an oncoming car. The car swerved to avoid her.

Dylan didn't have much time to react. He tried to veer the car around the other, but the Impala started to skid on the wet road. He was going way too fast.

He would always remember the screeching of the tires on the slick pavement. The sound of the horns from both cars trying to warn the other. Then there was the cracking and crushing of the cars together. Shattering glass cut through both air and flesh. Shallow breathing gasped from the vehicles. Then nothing. Darkness.


	16. Whiplash

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/17/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

Dylan gasped and opened his eyes. His sight was surprisingly clear although he felt disoriented. He carefully began to move, wondering if he had broken any bones. His body was incredibly stiff but he found he could maneuver fine. With delicate attention, he pushed his body up into a sitting position.

His gaze snapped down as his hands slid across hard metal instead clothe seats.

He was shocked to find himself sprawled on the front of the car, many feet from the driver's seat. Confused, he turned to see how he could possibly be on top of the hood. There was a huge hole in the glass, definitely big enough for a person to go through. Dylan's eyes scanned his body, remembering that _he _must have been the one to go through the windshield. A few cuts and some bruises. He was sore. But, he felt..._fine? _How could he possibly be _fine? _He just blasted through a fucking tempered glass windshield with only cuts and bruises?

"Dylan" Sam panted from the passenger seat. "You ok?"

"Sam," he called with relief, crawling over the hood towards the passenger side of the car. That side of the glass was intact; apparently Sam had put his seatbelt on just before the crash.

"You ok, kid," Sam asked, looking his body over.

"Yeah, fine," he said surprised. Sam looked at him as if there was something he knew that Dylan didn't. "You?"

"Been better," he hissed as he moved his arm. "I think I broke something."

Dylan hopped off the hood and pulled the car door open for his uncle.

"Don't move," he asked as he looked Sam over. His head was bruised and bleeding, most likely from hitting the dashboard during impact. "Just sit still."

"I'm fine, Dylan. Believe me, I've had worse, ok," Sam hissed as he made his way out of the car. Dylan stayed close as Sam stood up. "What about the other car?"

Dylan had forgotten about that aspect. He craned his neck over the car and looked in the other vehicle. The driver was slumped behind his air bag, but was breathing normally. Just passed out.

"I'm gonna call 911 and Bobby to get this car towed," Sam said, pulling out his cell phone. "Yeah, there was a bad accident out by on Archer by the forest preserve…two cars…I don't know, it was a deer or something. It just darted right out in front of us and the other car…" Sam continued to talk to the police about the accident, convincing them it was just what it was, something darted out of no where.

Bobby said he could call another hunter friend nearby and get the car into an impound where it wouldn't be searched. After all, the weaponry in the trunk might look a tad suspicious. He also informed Sam he was on his way; he wasn't going to let the boys go through whatever alone.

"Sam," Dylan interrupted.

"Yeah," Sam said, holding a hand over the receiver.

"Where's Dad?"

Sam's face sank and, with that, Dylan's heart dropped to his stomach.

"Dad!"

"Dean!"

"_Dad! _Dad are you ok?!"

"DEAN!"

There was nothing. No scream back. No sarcastic comment. Silence.

"Dad, _please_," Dylan pleaded, feeling a few tears form in his eyes. He wandered the area of broken glass and shrapnel, looking for anything. There was nobody. Not even a piece of clothing.

"Sam, where is he," Dylan sobbed, the thought of his Dad 'somewhere' was too overwhelming. "I looked everywhere!! Did she take him?!"

"No, ghosts can't do that," Sam lied, giving Dylan a hug. "Look, you checked all over the car?"

He nodded, he had looked everywhere it was possible for a human could go. Sam told him to stay put, and he jumped into the car to search for his brother.

Dylan was angry. He switched between rage and agony. If anything happened to his dad….

She appeared again across the road, where she had ran to, sneering at Dylan. Before he could blink, she emerged in front of him. She didn't speak, but the look in her eyes was one of fury. Of hate. Dylan's reflected the same.

He ran to the trunk of the car, hitting it hard with his elbow to pop the broken lock open. He remembered his dad speaking about a saw-offed with salt rounds. It was something to protect from spirits.

He found his weapon and loaded the gun, racing forward towards the ghostly figure. Dylan raised the rifle, taking aim.

"Stupid bitch," he spat before pulling the trigger. She disappeared in a haze of salt. "Come on! Come back and fight you fucking whore!"

"Dylan! Are you fucking crazy?! I called the cops, put the fucking gun away!"

Dylan looked around, not finding the girl anymore and he ran back to the trunk, replacing the rifle back in the hidden compartment of the trunk. He locked it down, breaking the lock further so no one could get in.

"Dylan, I need your help," Sam called. There was a new timbre to his voice; fear. His uncle knelt by the back door to the back passenger seat, leaning down towards the floor. Dylan couldn't see what he was looking at. Both front seats had been pushed far back during the accident, almost to the floor. Almost. Dylan felt like he was going to throw up.

"Dean," his uncle whispered, reaching his hand under the front seat. "You'll be ok. Just hold on."  
He raised his eyes to his nephew. "Dyl, you have to get these seats off of him."

"Dad," Dylan gasped. "Is he…"

"We need them off - now," Sam said, urgency in his voice.

Dylan jumped into the driver's seat again and pulled at the headrest. His muscles ached and strained at the force he was wielding. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he tried between tears to get his father out of the car. With much effort, he managed to move it up only a few inches.

"I can't do anymore," Dylan huffed, frustrated and out of breathe.

"Damn it," Sam said. "I can't feel if he's breathing." His uncle sounded beyond panic. "Dean, you stay with me, ok? Damn it Dylan, what good is having someone with vampire strength around if you can't use it?!"

"What?" Surely he had misheard him.

Sam got up from his spot near Dean and went to his nephew, giving him a quick hug.

"Just go. Get outta here before the cops come. You can't get looked at by the paramedics, ok?"

"Sam?"

"Go. Run. Get home. Your family is going to need you. Don't let you brother and sister come here, ok? I'll call your mother," he gulped.

Dylan remained still, now making out his father's twisted legs on the backseat floor.

"GO!"

Dylan did go. He ran swiftly, pushing him body harder than he ever thought possible through the woods, finding it quite easy to see in the darkness of night. The trees blurred by him as he made it through the forest preserve to the next main street. As he approached, he slowed his pace and casually made his way into a restaurant, taking a seat at a booth. Dylan set his head in his hands, trying to swallow down the lumps in his throat, and with that the sobbing tears he knew were behind them.

"You ok, hun," the waitress asked as she poured him a cup of coffee.

"Do you have the Yellow Pages," he asked politely.

"Sure, hold on." The waitress darted behind the counter and came back. "Here you go."

"Thanks," he whispered, before looking up cab companies. His finger shockingly scrolled down the page until he found one that would deliver to his neck of the woods.

"Yeah," he sighed to the operator. "I got to get home."

* * *

Abby, Ruby and April sat at the kitchen table, enjoying coffee and pie as Jamie played Guitar Hero in the other room. Well, Abby enjoyed the coffee anyway. The pie was not going to sit well with her.

"This sucks," April sulked. "I can't believe Dad took Dy-lan out on a hunt. So unfair."

"April, come on. It's not _that_ fun," Ruby said before taking a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, and you wouldn't want to stay where Dad and Sam do when they hunt. Really, really gross," Abby added, stirring the sugar in her coffee.

"Oh god yeah," Ruby said. "Those boys were motel rats growing up."

Abby and Ruby reminisced about the most disturbing of the boys' motel experiences, laughing at their past. Abby was certainly glad that they finally could. After everything they had been though, after all the hurt and pain, Ruby had truly become one of her best friends.

It was nice just having some girl time, enjoying talking about boys. They opened up about a lot, although Abby was still upset that April refused to talk about her dreams or the vampire boys she had met. That would take a lot more sleuthing on her part.

Apparently, Ruby and Sam were finally happy, after years of discord. They were on and off so many times. At the beginning, the start of her renewed human existence anyway, it was toxic. Sam was hurt and hated himself. It wasn't until later, when he learned to love the real Sam again that he could truly love Ruby.

Lately, they were fighting again, mostly due to the fact that Ruby wanted a baby. Sam put the kibosh to that almost immediately and the self-loathing partially returned. He never pardoned himself for what he did to Abby. True, he loved Jamie as his own, but only showed it as his uncle. But a real child of his own that he could raise? That was completely out of the question. Ruby was heartbroken. Her want and need for a child spanned back to her previous human life.

"So," she sighed. "That's where we're at right now. I don't know what to do."

"Ruby," Abby consoled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He'll come around. Sam would be a great dad. He's so good with our kids. You'll just have to give him some more time, sweetie."

"I'd like a cousin," April chimed in. "I'll even baby-sit for free!"

That caused them all to have a good, soothing laugh.

Abby felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. Hurriedly, she fished it out of her tight jeans, staring down at the number and name on the screen. Sam.

"Sam," she asked as she hurried into another room. Abby heard Ruby follow as soon as his name was uttered.

"Abby." His voice was defeated.

"Sam, what's wrong," she whispered in vain, forgetting that April could now clearly hear from a distance.

"You gotta get to Hinsdale Hospital as soon as possible."

"Oh my god. Dylan," she gasped. April blurred into the room by her mother.

"Dylan is fine. We were in a car accident. Bad one. Being part vamp worked out for him though. He's on his way home. He probably got a cab. I just didn't want him to get checked at the hospital."

Her fingers clenched the phone tighter.

"Are you ok," she said quickly.

"I broke my arm and some ribs. Gotta concussion too, but I'm fine."

"Then," she paused, "why do I have to come to the hospital?"

"Abby," he paused, choking on his sobs. "It's Dean."


	17. Bad Day

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/22/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

Her head swam with thoughts as she raced down the hall the nurse at the desk had pointed. ICU. Not a good sign.

Sam was out in the hall, leaning against a wall across from an open door. Overcome, he rested his head in his hands. She slowly approached and he must have recognized her distinct footfalls. He raised his head to reveal red, puffy eyes and tear stains.

"Ab," he said, approaching slowly, taking long strides. He took her firmly in his arms, holding her tight to him.

She remained very still. Silent. The thoughts of hurt from Sam washed over her. He twisted her away from the view of the door.

"What happened," she whispered against his chest.

Sam explained the downfall of their hunt. He didn't remember much of the crash itself, perhaps because of his concussion.

"Sam, you sit down, hun," Abby cajoled, hoping he would take her advice. He didn't answer and only held her closer. "April called me. She said Dyl got home ok."

"How's he doin'," he sighed.

"Messed up. Ruby is there watching Jamie. She said April and Dylan went and had a little talk about things in her room. Might be better that way. They always had a way of communicating with each other, ya know?"

"Yeah."

"Dr. Musgrove is on his way to the house to check on him. You can never be too careful you know."

Abby remained in his arms as he rubbed her back, perhaps comforting her before the final blow. Her mind spun. Why hadn't Sam said anything yet? Was Dean...was he...?

"I want to see him," she demanded in her softest tone of voice.

"No, not yet."

"Sam," she said, pulling herself back to get a good look at his eyes. "Sam, I want to see him. I _need _to see him. No matter what."

"Please, not yet," he whimpered.

"Sam...look at me. I'm gonna do it no matter what. Is that his room behind me?"

With a deep inhale of breathe, he nodded yes. Abby pivoted around in slow motion, feeling her brother-in-law following close behind. His arms never left her waist. She entered the room slowly, her chest tight. There was her man. Her love. Her Dean. Her knees gaveout when she saw him. Now she understood the intention of Sam's hands on her waist. He caught her and held her securely.

"Why's - why is he hooked up to all of that," she cried. Abby recognized some of the machinery. His heartbeat kept time on the on monitor, sounding oddly off from what she usually heard from him. She had his memorized.

Sam explained that the two other machines were helping him breathe and monitoring his brain function.

His face was covered with cuts sewn up by stitches and he was bruised from head to toe. He looked different, but still that was her Dean lying on that hospital bed. She felt a deep growl sound from in her chest.

"When do the docs say he's gonna wake up," she asked, already knowing the answer deep down. It would just be par for the course for them.

"They don't know. He wasn't breathing for a while, and they think it may have affected his brain. They're not sure to what extent yet..." His words started to fade out for her as she soaked in what he was saying. He may never wake up.

Before she knew what she was doing, she snarled and blurred to the room door, shutting it before appearing in the opposite corner of the room. She was hysterical.

"I'm sorry," she wailed. "It's all my fault! If I wouldn't have pushed for you guys to take Dylan..." Her hands grasped the typical uncomfortable visitor's chair in the corner, snapping the arm of it like a twig.

"Abby, please calm down," Sam pleaded, approaching slowly. She snarled in response.

"Why does this shit always happen to us?! Haven't we been through enough," she screamed. "Hasn't HE sacrificed enough?!" She pointed up to the ceiling. "He helped defeat your enemy, G-od! Doesn't he get another freebie?! Doesn't this family get one fucking chance at happiness?! Don't we deserve it?! Dean and Sam don't deserve this life! None of us do! They deserve to grow old in peace, God dammit! Oh I get it, it's because of me and Ruby, isn't it? Their punishment because they picked two heathen, evil bitches as their better halves, huh?! Well FUCK YOU!"

Sam's arms were suddenly around her. She struggled against him while trying her best not to hurt him. Abby's mind kept flashing between numerous scenes, all of which contained a very hurt or dead Dean. She couldn't take it anymore. Why struggle? It wasn't going to change anything.

"Abby, please hun," Sam wept into her hair. "Please, Dean can hear you. Don't say those kind of things."

_He could hear her?_

"Ab, please go home. It was wrong of me to have you come here," Sam pleaded.

"Sam," she turned to face him. "I'm his _wife_."

She shrugged him away from her and grabbed the now broken chair from the corner. Dragging it across the floor, she planted it firmly and intentionally next to Dean's bed. Abby slunked down into the seat, resting her elbow on the mattress. She took one of Dean's hands in her own.

"I'm staying right here, Sam. I'm not going anywhere. Give Ruby a call. She's worried sick about you. And tell her to pack me some clothes. I won't be home for a while."

Sam sighed in defeat and left the room, dialing his cellphone for Ruby as he departed.

"_I'm so sorry, Dean_," she whispered to him, running her fingers through his hair. "This is all my fault. But I'll make you better. I promise. I'm not leaving your side, babe. I love you." She took his hand to her lips for a kiss.

* * *

"Is it really bad," April wept as she played with the hem of her nightgown.

He couldn't respond. She'd know he meant yes.

"Should we tell Jam-"

"No, April. Not yet. We don't even know what's going on yet."

"I still can't believe they took you on a hunt," she snorted with disgust. "What a stupid idea. I mean, you're a total newbie."

Dylan stared at her like she three eyes. He was still stunned to find out that his sister had known about hunting and how she came about discovering it.

He sat next to her on her bed, fiddling with the diary of Mary Campbell between his fingers. Dylan made a mental note to read it…when he was ready.

"When you're done with that," April smiled slightly, "You'll have to get Papa Winchester's journal for me. I'd love to read it."

"I gave it back to Dad."

"Oh."

Shock was the only thing he could comprehend. Everything that happened that night seemed like it was all just a nightmare, a blur. But it wasn't. His dad really was on the verge of - . He couldn't finish his sentence.

"So, now you know."

"Yeah," he sighed. "You know, A.C, Sam did say something interesting…"

"What," April said, sitting straight up in the bed.

"He said something about what good is having someone with vampire strength around if you can't use it? And then told me I couldn't get checked out by the paramedics? What the fuck do you think that's about?"

From the way she sighed and how green eyes gazed away, she knew.

"April, tell - "

"Dyl, not tonight, ok? You've been through enough. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Fine," he said, disappointed that she wouldn't reveal a secret. They were twins after all. Secrets were never between them.

He gave her a hug goodnight before getting up to leave.

"If you need anything Dylan, just holler," she smiled sweetly as she tucked herself in.

"There is one thing."

"What is it," her eyebrows arched with concern.

"I'm going to kill that fucking ghost bitch and I need your help. We're going hunting."


	18. Takin' Care of Business

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/22/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is a new image in my profile for "Mission" with all the main characters! Feel free to take a peek!

April woke up with a start. Her heart still pounded in her chest. She had died; _again_. She figured she'd be used it by now since it had happened every night she closed her eyes.

Although, this night was different. Jesse wasn't the assailant. It was someone she didn't know, someone she didn't recognize; their face was shrouded in darkness. Totally blocked out. She couldn't even tell if it was a male or female.

But that wasn't all she had dreamt about. She also had one about her dad, mangled in a car wreck. _No._ She couldn't think about the what ifs. If she had been there to protect him. If she could have ripped the seats off of him. If she could have ran him to safety.

April got out of bed and straightened her nightgown before heading downstairs. She was thirsty, and not just for warm milk. There was an item of particular interest calling to her from the basement.

She trudged down the stairs, her body still craving sleep. She'd make sure to get plenty of z's after she was full. It would make her feel more relaxed, less edgy.

With a light jump, she bounced off the stairs and turned the corner. She walked into the kitchen, expecting to only find the usual items in their places all off. What she didn't expect was a black silhouette at the table.

"Jesus," she gasped. "Can you at least say 'Hi April,' before I walk in the room, bro?! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Truth was, she felt like it, her heart was pumping like a humming bird.

"Sorry," he smiled shyly. He was sitting at the table drinking a beer, tearing the label off with his fingers.

"Dylan," April sat down next to him, "if Ruby catches you drinking, she's gonna be pissed."

"Well, then let's keep quiet so she doesn't catch us," he smirked. "Do you want one?" April rolled her eyes. Her body wasn't craving alcohol.

They stayed silent, sitting at the kitchen table together. That was a bad idea. April's hunger seemed to be taking over. She could hear Dylan's pulse get louder and louder. She was barely able to stand it. But, she didn't want him following her down into the basement; she'd need a _reason_ to go down there.

_'Focus, April,' _she told herself. Think of something other than the hunger. It was a technique her mother had taught her in dealing with humans.

"So," she started, "How are you doin'?"

"Fantastic…you?"

"Oh I'm just frickin' peachy," she smirked, thinking of the phrase she had picked up from her dad as a little girl.

"I meant what I said, April. About hunting. We're gonna get her for what she did," he spat.

"Dylan, you know revenge schemes never work."

"We're gonna get rid of her anyway. Dad and Sam told me how to do it, I'm sure you know how since your Little Miss Huntress now…so, let's just fucking do it."

"Fine. We'll go out investigating tomorrow, ok? Do you have the case file for it, bro?"

"Shit," he sighed, tossing his beer cap onto the table.

"Hey, don't sweat it. They told you all about it, right? The history of the apparition?"

"Yeah." He gave her all the details they had given him, and he revealed to her his actual experience chatting with the crazed spirit.

"Well, go write it and down and maybe look up some stuff on the internet. Maybe search for accidents in the area? Rapes? Girl's named Anne who were killed between 1910 and 1940? Might be a good way to get an idea of where she's buried so we can get rid of her for good tomorrow."

He smiled and got up, most likely to go to his room and start on his research right away. As he walked past her, he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late, sis."

"Same to you. I'm gonna need you in top shape tomorrow. No pansies allowed," she joked.

"Thanks for agreeing to go with me."

"No prob."

"Love you sis."

"Dude, don't go chick flick on me," she snickered, playfully hitting his arm. He smiled and patted her shoulder again before heading upstairs.

Her vampire hearing heard him move to his room and gently shut his door. She could even hear him clacking away at his keyboard on the computer. With a huge sigh of relief, she blurred down to the basement. April zipped though the combination and found the fridge downstairs fully stocked. Bags and bottles of chilled blood were everywhere. There was also a note from Mom.

_"April, I suggest you heat it up a little in the microwave. It'll taste better. Use a dark coffee cup; nothing clear. I even put one down here for you to fill up without having to take the bags upstairs. Love, Mom."_

She couldn't get over how creepy and cool is was of her mother to do that. Either way, her support was appreciated. The only thing left to do that evening was to slate her thirst and go to bed. She had a long day tomorrow.

* * *

They arrived at the same place at the same time, and Dylan wanted to run away. The events that unfolded the previous evening were all coming back to him. _Fuck_, he shouldn't have come back so soon. April parked where his dad had the night before.

He and April sat anxiously in her red Mustang playing the waiting game. He was surprised to see the collection of arsenal she had already acquired. She kept it in a huge gray duffel bag in the trunk; a gift from Aunt Jo. Dylan told her about his dad's secret trunk compartment. April seemed intrigued, and told him she was going to look into building one herself at the garage one day.

"Remember, Dylan, we need a last name…or initial. Even the name of her attacker would be good."

"I don't want to talk to her," he spat. That was sure true. Ghost or not, he wanted to rip her fucking heart out.

"Dyl, come on. Take this shit seriously. First rule I've learned, don't let your emotions get to you," she said from the driver seat. "_You _have to take control. She'll only talk to you, right? We _need _this information."

It was true. They had narrowed it down to two different Annes who were found dead on or near that road. A last name was imperative to the ghost's demise. They even had the location of each grave on hand, just in case. Both cemeteries were within twenty minutes of their location. It would be a quick ending.

April glanced down at the clock in her car and sighed.

"Showtime. Do you promise not to freak out again if I give you my wheels?"

He chuckled at her. Sometimes, she was so like their dad it was funny. Dylan promised and reassured her that the shock of the ghost had worn out. He also warned her not to say anything.

"If she asks for a ride, I'm just gonna drive off. As long as we have the info, we'll be golden."

"Ok. I'm grab a few precautions from the trunk, just in case," she said as she exited the drivers door and he went around the car to climb in. When she returned to the passenger side, she had a sawed off with salt shells, an iron rod, and a can of salt from the grocery store. He couldn't help but ask if she was planning on cooking for it. "What? Oh, you're a jerk."

Dylan laughed before bracing himself for the encounter. He knew how it would happen now, and now he was prepared. His eyes flickered down at the clock and back up to reveal a beautiful blonde walking along the side of the road.

April warned him that she may be a spirit caught in a loop, so she may reintroduce herself.

He pulled the car over to the side of the road and rolled down the window.

"Hi, I'm Dylan," he said with less fear than the first time.

Just as before, the girl, turned towards him.

"Hello," she said in her same sweet voice. "I'm Anne."

"I didn't catch your last name, Anne."

"I didn't give it," she smiled.

April rolled her eyes.

"Well, how about if I give you my last name, you tell me yours," he tried to seduce.

"Momma always said never give that kinda stuff out to strangers."

_'Shit,' _he thought. _'We have a stubborn ghost.'_"You look like you need some help, Anne" he repeated what he had said the night before.

"I need a ride, Dylan. He," she paused, seeming sad as she looked down at her torn dress. "He pushed me out of the car. I don't know how I'm going to get home."

"Who pushed you?"

"I don't know his name. He was just taking me home from the club."

"What club?"

"Willowbrook Ballroom," she sighed. April slowly looked through the papers in her lap, searching through both files for the name of the ballroom.

"Where's home," he pushed.

"That way," she pointed towards the direction of the cemetery.

April's hands slowly scanned down the pages and stopped.

"Got it," she smiled.

The ghost turned towards his sister, but instead of disappearing as she had with Dean and Sam in the car, she sneered,

"Who's _she?_"

He'd seen that look before. But, that's ok, she couldn't get into the car. Right?

"Dylan, I think we better go," April said as the ghost approached the passenger door.

"She can't get in. What does it matter?"

"Dyl, this car is just a car. It's not implemented for ghosts."

"Fuck," he said as he hurriedly pressed on the gas. They zoomed off at a high rate of speed.  
"Put your seatbelt on!"

They drove like a bat outta hell for about a mile before slowing down to the limit and sighing with relief.

"So, where is she buried?"

"Anne Polaski was buried at St. James Cemetery by the Cal Sag River. We have a little bit of a drive southwest of here." She showed him the map and he turned around to get back on the highway a quarter of a mile up the road. "You want me to drive?"

"Nah, I'm good, sis. I just wanna kill this bitch and get it over with."

April nodded, seemingly impressed with his confidence and composure. Well, after all, he'd been through this much before. He glanced up in his rearview mirror for traffic and froze. There was the blonde in the backseat of the Mustang…and she looked pissed.

"April, behind -!"

Before he could finish his sentence, the ghost had a death grip on his sister's throat. The car swerved on the wet pavement as he reached over to try to break the spirit's grasp.

"You stupid slut," the ghost spat as April gasped. Quickly, April grabbed the shotgun and shot it over her shoulder. The girl dissipated in a haze.

"You ok," Dylan asked, glancing over at her in concern.

"Fine," she gasped, holding her neck. "Fucking Ghost! Keep drivin'!" She grabbed the canister of salt and crawled towards the backseat, pouring it by the doors and windows. Flipping into the backseat again, she poured it by the windows and doors in the front. "Sorry, Dylan, I gotta crawl over you for a minute." She leaned over him, pouring the salt to his left. "There. Now the car is spirit free. Sounds like a good tag line for a car dealership."

"Ha. Ha," he replied dryly.

April grabbed her MP3 player, something she always did under distress, and scrolled down the list. She choose "You Shook Me All Night Long."

"You should update your play list," Dylan smirked.

"Blame Dad for my taste in music," she smiled sadly. Yeah, he could definitely do that. He could sense her sadness over the situation. She had always been Daddy's Little Girl, and he knew that. April was taking him being in the hospital harder than she was letting on. He knew because he was playing the same game. After all, he was the reason Dean was in there.

"Hey," he said trying to lighten the mood. "That's not true. Remember when you were little and you were really into Hannah Montana? Dad threatened to ban it from the house for all eternity."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Instead Mom compromised that we'd only listen to it on rides to the grocery store in HER car. He wouldn't allow it in the Impala."

They listened to her song choices, singing along for another twenty minutes until they found the cemetery. It was on a small hill and it was creepy as hell at night. Actually, it would be pretty damn spooky during the day as well.

An immense wrought iron gate guarded the entrance with an ominous sign the proclaimed its name.

With out warning, April whistled.

"What the fuck are you doing," Dylan asked with wide eyes.

"Sometimes they let dogs run around when the cemetery is closed. I was just seeing if any came on by if I signaled," she whispered. No dogs showed up. That was a relief.

April quickly hopped the fence and Dylan followed right behind. He held the salt and matches and she carried the rifle and a shovel.

They had practically read all the headstones in the graveyard until they finally found hers. Anne Polaski, 1911 - 1931. Twenty years old, just like he had guessed.

"I'll start digging," she said, throwing the rifle to them. He was confused by her want to dig. After all, he was physically stronger than herself.

He watched her dig rapidly, alarmed at the rate she got down to the coffin. No concrete over it; just the box. At least that worked out.

Shocked, Dylan watched his sister lift the coffin lid open with her bare hands. He was about to ask her how she managed to do that, when he was hit with such force, he reeled to the ground, losing the gun in the process. The ghost girl, Anne, stood over him staring down at him with disgust.

"Is that all I am to you," she sobbed. "I thought you loved me…now you're with her?!?!"

Dylan stared at her with confusion, not sure of what she meant.

"How could you?! How COULD you do this to me?!" She lunged at him, straddling his body and pinning him to the ground.

"Let him go," his sister ordered with authority. "I'm the one you want, right?! I'm the one who took him away from you." At first, he wondered what she was doing, but then he realized she was playing her game; she was going along with the ghost's delusions.

"He needs to pay for what he did to me," the ghost shrieked.

April stood next to the grave, a full twenty feet from them, twitching in anticipation. The ghost put her hand over his heart and started to squeeze. Dylan felt like his chest was on fire, struggling for each breathe. His heart clenched like it was caught in a vice. The blood vessels popped in his eyes.

He lay under the ghost, thinking that would be his last hunt, when he saw a person blur to his side instantaneously. April, who had been far back, was at his side with the gun already in her hands. She shot the ghost right between the eyes and the spirit disappeared once again.

"You ok," April said, kneeling down beside him. Dazed, he nodded.

She smiled and blurred inhumanly fast to the grave, ripping the lid clean off the coffin. Too quickly, she salted the bones, poured accelerant and set them on fire. Dylan sat and watched the flames, happy that it would send the fucking ghost into oblivion.

April ran back over to him at normal speed, setting herself down beside him.

"If I get you up on your feet, can you still hop the fence," she asked.

"I - I think so."

"If you can't, I'll just carry you over."

_'Carry me over? How the hell could the little thing do that?'_

They ran back down the hillside, easily making it back over the fence and into the car. It seemed security was lax around the cemetery; bad for security, but good for them.

Dylan's mind was filled with unanwsered questions.

"April…why did she think you took me away? And that I did something to her?"

From the drivers seat, she tossed him the case file and told him to read.

Dylan read her back story. Typical girl who fell in love and everything was rosy. That night in the Willowbrook Ballroom, she discovered her fiancé having an affair with her friend. Devastated, she got drunk and took a ride home with a stranger she met at the bar. Her body was discovered three days later on the side of that road. She had been raped and strangled to death. Her fiancé committed suicide shortly their after, followed by her friend. And now he understood why the other cemetery closer to the road was home to her; it was where her fiancé was buried. She was too trapped in that night where her world crashed around her to move on. And yet, part of her must have still loved him. Her spirit was just too filled with rage to go home.

All the hate he had for the ghost faded. Anne was insane in death, caught in a cruel loop that would never let her rest. Maybe, perhaps, instead of destroying her, he and April had given her a moment of peace.

Well one mystery solved. Case closed. Only one more of the night remained.

"April," he turned to her. "How could you move that fast?"

"What are you talking about," she asked innocently.

"You - you got to me so quickly. It's impossible to move that fast. But I've seen impossible things now, so there is obviously something going on with you."

"Dylan, just drop it."

"No! You told me you were going to explain stuff to me today. And then I see you BLUR to my side instantaneously AND rip a fucking COFFIN lid right off with no effort! What the hell is going on?!"

"FINE," she screamed, slamming on the brakes and pulling the car over to the side of the road. "You wanna know what's going on?!" With a heavy, remorse filled sigh, she turned to him and extended her canines.


	19. Show Me The Way

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/22/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

She was in the darkness with him, wanting desperately to free him as his flesh was peeled from his bones. Abby snarled, spat, lunged, her canines out at full length, desperately trying to get at his attacker. Alistair stood triumphantly in front of Dean, whose blood flooded the dark stone floor.

Dean's eyes were defeated, tired and filled with agony. He'd endured far too much during his time and God knows he had resisted. He had _tried_.

She watched as Alistair made him a simple deal; if he performed the torturing, he could get down off the rack. Abby knew his answer and of the immense regret it would cause him in life back on Earth, but she was surprised as she actually witnessed him afflict others. He went about it as play, smiling devilishly as he shredded and tore at the soul in front of him. Delighting in the blood shot from they other's flesh onto his own skin. He coaxed them to beg, scream, even joking that they should pray. It wasn't him. The look on that man's face was one of complete and under desperation; of submission.

With all her might, she ran towards him and grabbed his arm just he was going to stab his victim. He looked down at her and his eyes snapped out of their wicked trance.

"Dean, stop," she pleaded. "This isn't you! You don't have to do this!"

"Abby," he choked, the knife shaking in his hand. "Abby. I don't wanna do this, but I can't go back up there…I just can't!" Tears welled up in his bloodshot, green eyes.

"Dean, this isn't real. It's just a memory," her hand caressed his face.

"I just can't go back up there," he repeated.

"Shh," she said, stroking his cheek with care. "Come with me. Anywhere you want. You're free; you don't have to stay here."

He looked around again and his eyes widened. They were no longer in Hell but on a beach; their beach. The one where they fell in love and later wed. Dean hurriedly glanced down at his body, skimming his fingers over his chest, finding no wounds or burns. He was whole.

With a carefree laugh, he took her in his strong arms and held her to him. She gladly hugged back in return, loving the feel of him against her. Abby smiled, laughing freely as he spun her around.

"Dean, stop," she giggled. At her request, he slowed down and placed her gently on the sand. He laid down beside her, rolling to face her.

"God, you're hot," he smirked.

"Not too bad yourself," she grinned, biting down on her lower lip. His face edged ever closer until his mouth was on her own, aggressively taking all he wanted.

His hand skimmed from her shoulders down to her…

"Abby?….Abby?"

The vision on the beach faded away and her eyes slowly opened.

"Abby?"

Through the slits of her heavy lids, she tried to distinguish her surroundings. The warmth from his chest heated her cheek, even through his t-shirt. She shut her eyes again, letting the ebb and flow of his breathing take her back. She wanted to go with him.

"Ab," the voice said again, slightly shaking her.

Her eyes flickered open more, the foggy scene becoming clear once again. Abby's head still rested on Dean's chest, her arms draped protectively over his body. He was asleep, and from the slight smile on his lips, resting peacefully.

She pushed herself from the bed, stretching in the hard chair.

"Ab?"

Startled, she turned towards the disembodied voice.

"Sam," she yawned. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you," he admitted. Sam walked up closer behind her and put his hand on her shoulders. He kneaded and pressed away the knots in her neck and shoulders.

Sam's chuckle caught her off guard.

"What," Abby asked, titling her head up towards him.

"What's he so happy about," Sam nodded towards his brother in the bed, whose smile was evident.

"Oh," she blushed. "Well, let's just say I helped him on his way to a good dream." Sam grinned and shook his head, thinking sexual healing was right up Dean's alley. Her smile faded as she reflected back to how her husband's dream had started. "I had to help him, Sam. This coma, this being trapped in his own mind, will eat away at him if I don't help. He - he was stuck in Hell again. In his _mind_…and he didn't know how to get out."

His hand stopped their massage. She could feel his fingers start to tremble.

She explained to Sam how she could still tap into Dean's thoughts. When he would dream, sometimes his mind would venture into the deep recesses of memories. At times, they were good, even euphoric. But every so often, it trapped him subconsciously into his own personal Hell.

"I just helped him push through it," she sighed, placing his hand in her own. "Don't worry, Sam, he's in his happy place now. Trust me."

Abby could feel Sam close against her back, his good hand resting on the back of her chair. She yawned happily as she saw Dean's smile, content that he was at least sleeping…or whatever he was doing. Either way, it made her feel good. Her head suddenly felt heavy and she could feel fatigue overtaking her body. Abby laid her head across Dean's body again, feeling safe and at home. Yeah, she could definitely nap there.

"Ab," Sam's voice said. "I think you should get outta here for a while."

"No," she said, not even bothering to open her eyes. She was far too comfy to bother with her annoying brother-in-law. And, if she could, she wanted to get in on Dean's dream. Abby was quite curious to see what else he had added to it.

"Abigail, you really should leave. Just for a few hours."

Because he used her full first name, she didn't even bother answering him, a habit she picked up from living with Dean. If he was pissed at her, that's the name he'd always use.

"When was the last time you…ate?"

She pondered that thought and, frankly, she couldn't quite remember. Besides, she was too worn out to be hungry.

"What has it been," he continued. "Four days? A week? Ab, you've been here non-stop for five days. Don't you think it'll look a little suspicious if you don't leave for a while? I don't want them coming in here thinking you're dehydrated and running tests."

Valid point. But, she remained silent.

"And it's _dangerous_. You're in a hospital, surrounded by human blood. I just - Ab, I was here in the hospital yesterday when the nurse took Dean's blood sample. You practically splintered the chair and you bit down on your lip, hard. If I recall, you made yourself bleed."

It was true. The rich, intoxicating smell of his blood overwhelmed her, but she wasn't _dangerous! _She would never hurt Dean, and to say such things was blasphemous; she would not respond to such slander.

Abby was just starting to slip back into Dean's fantasy, his hands caressing her bare body as the two made love on the beach. The sand matted against her back as he pressed her down harder in the dune.

Without warning, the dream slipped away and she felt her physical body move.

"Hey," she protested half-awake. She was being lifted from the chair and away from her husband. "NO!"

Frantically, she reached for him, grasping for his hand, his shirt…but he wasn't there. Her mind panicked.

"Shh," Sam soothed. "I'll come back after I drop you off, ok? You need to get some sleep. Real sleep. You're exhausted."

* * *

Her heavy eyelids slipped shut again, her head finding a pillow against Sam's chest as he carried her bridal style to the car, her own arms wrapped around his neck to give herself support. Sam couldn't wait to get the cast off his other arm.

He gently placed her in the passenger seat, making sure to strap her in tight.

Thankfully, the hotel room he had rented was only a three minute drive from the hospital. He made sure to get one close so he could rush over if there were any changes in his brother's condition.

After parking the car, he gathered the sleeping vampire, putting her over his good shoulder, making sure to keep a steady pace to not wake her. Carefully, he walked down the well-lit halls and up a flight of stairs until he reached room 222. Key already in hand, he swiped it down and entered, holding the door open with one foot as his hands were quite full.

He gently deposited Abby onto the bed, resting her head on the pillow. Sam found an extra blanket in the closet, placing it over her.

He yawned, starting to feel sleepy himself but he had promised her he'd stay with him. Sam was pleased that his brother's health was progressing. Over the past days, Dean was able to breathe on his own and his heart started to go back to a natural rhythm. However, he was still trapped in a coma. The doctors said that the brain waves were becoming more active, which was a promising sign of recovery. Now they had to wait; once he woke up, the doctors needed to see if there was any long term, permanent damage that might be evident. Sam couldn't bear the thought.

As he made it to the door, he craned his neck to see Abby passed out on the bed. She slept like the dead, he thought with a smirk. He stopped in the middle of closing the door behind him. She was tossing and turning, whimpering in her sleep in obvious distress.

"Hey," he whispered, running to her side. "Abby, wake up." Sam shook her lightly.

Her dark eyes fluttered slightly, a sad smile playing on her lips.

"Sam…I don't wanna be alone right now," she wept, playing with the hem of his shirt. "I'm so scared…"

"Shh," he consoled, sitting on the bed beside her, pulling her too him with his good arm. "It's ok. I'm scared too. Look, though, there's hope right? He's been getting better and better everyday. Don't be sad, Abby."

She sobbed against his chest, soaking his shirt, her cries slowly fading as sleep overtook her once again. He didn't feel right leaving her side when she was in such a state, especially if she woke up alone.

He gave her a quick squeeze before putting her back down on the soft mattress, wrapping her up in the warm blanket. Before getting ready for bed, he made a quick call to the hospital, informing them that if anything about Dean's status changed, to call him and Abby on their cells. He also left Ruby a message, wishing his wife goodnight.

After snapping the phone shut, he changed into comfortable plaid sleep pants and a gray cotton t-shirt and crawled into bed beside her.

One bed. He probably should have thought about the fact that they might share a room. Sam kept his distance from her, hoping she felt comfortable sleeping beside him. They'd come so far over the years, struggling to regain the friendship they once had; the one he had personally destroyed by one single horrifying act.

His heart ached at the memory. Sam's eyes skimmed over his sister-in-law, asleep and peaceful; the sadness overwhelmed him. Oh, how he had hurt her…and yet, somehow, someway, she found it in her heart to forgive him. Vampire or not, she was more human than any other person he'd ever known.

* * *

Abby shot out of a dead sleep as the cellphone vibrated in her pocket. She moved to grab it, only to find herself unable to budge; she was being held down. Sam's arm was draped protectively over her as he slept.

Wait…where was she? She stopped the pursuit of her phone to get a better look at her surroundings. It was a hotel room and a nice one at that. No creepy paisley comforter or themed rooms. Nice.

Gently, she removed Sam's arm, setting it softly on the bed. He rolled over in response. She fished out her phone and checked her missed call log. Call missed at 3:29 a.m. from Hinsdale Hospital. Her heart sank.

Hesitantly, she pushed the redial button and held the phone in her shaky palm.

"Hinsdale Hospital," the operator answered.

"Hello, this is Abigail Winchester, Dean Winchester's wife," her voice cracked. "I just received a call from someone at the hospital, but they didn't leave a message."

"Alright, Mrs. Winchester, I'll take a look at the call log and see who called you."

She was put on hold for what seemed like an eternity, the cheerful music playing in the background annoying her more than usual.

Finally, the operator came back on.

"Hello and thank you for waiting. It seems Dr. Franklin's nurse called you earlier. She's busy right now, but her call was about your husband…he's starting to regain conscious-"

"I'll be right there," she interrupted, ending the conversation abruptly. Her heart was filled with joy.  
She practically jumped up and down on the bed. "Sam! Sam! Wake up!"

"What! What's wrong?! Are you ok?!"

"Get up, we need to get the hospital. Dean's waking up!"

Sam beamed, excitedly pulling her to him for an embrace. She hugged back with enthusiasm before blurring away and reappearing fully dressed. Abby was ready to go.


	20. Vital Signs

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/22/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

AUTHOR ALERT: I posted another photo manip on my profile page after I uploaded this chapter. Feel free to take a peek!

Dean woke up with the worst hangover he had _ever_ had. His head throbbed and his vision was blurry. He felt like he'd passed out on a concrete floor and was left there for days.

And, to top it all off, he didn't know where the fuck he was.

"Dean," he heard her whisper. It sounded like he was under water. "Dean, babe, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," he wheezed, surprised to feel his throat burning like he had swallowed fire. He tried clearing his throat to see if made it any better. Nope. Made it worse. Fantastic.

"Nurse," she called with authority. "His throat hurts. Can you do anything for him?" He liked it when she was bossy.

"Mrs. Winchester, we've given him some morphine to alleviate most of the pain. His throat is just dry from the breathing tube being removed and lack of use. Once his next dose of meds kicks in within a few minutes, he'll start to feel much better. Don't be surprised if he's a little loopy."

"My man is always a little loopy," she chuckled, giving his hand a squeeze. He heard her sigh as he squeezed hers back in response. "Oh, babe, it's so good to have you back." She brought his hand to her lips and gave it a kiss. Tears rolled off her cheeks and onto his fingers.

"Hey," he said hoarsely. "Don't cry, Ab."

His eyes focused on her and he smiled. It was his same beautiful girl waiting for him. Goddamn was he lucky.

But, she did look tired and weak, the circles under her eyes a deep purple. He could tell from her pallor that she hadn't eaten in days. He wondered why.

"Hey, Dean. Good to have you back."

He raised his chin up, finding every muscle in his body stiff and sore, and saw his brother smiling down at him. Sam's face had a few stitches and his arm was in a sling.

"Sam, what the hell happened to you? You look like shit."

"Thanks. Same to you. So, you don't remember?"

Dean tried to recall memories, trying to figure what the hell Sam meant. _What had happened?_ He lifted a hand to his head, finding if hard to move; restrained. He looked down to find an IV in his left hand. Ugh.

"I-I don't know," he admitted. "So, I'm in the hospital?"

"You really don't remember anything," Sam asked again, looking down at him as if his head would explode. His brother quickly glimpsed down at Abby, as if they knew something he didn't know.

"I remember going on a hunting trip with you and Dylan…and that's it. Did we get her?"

"Sam, I'll tell him. Maybe you should go talk to the doctor about this memory recall. See what he thinks."  
Sam nodded in agreement and hurriedly left the room, shutting the door halfway.

Dean's heart started racing, the sound echoing throughout the room from the monitor.

"Shh. Calm down, hun," Abby smiled, pulling herself closer to him. He lifted his right hand and cupped her face, tenderly stroking her cheek. It felt like _years_ since he had last seen her.

"Come here," he said, patting the small space between him and the bed. Abby craned her neck and peered out the door to see if people were walking by. "Screw the rules. Get over here."

Abby smiled and scooted him over slightly, curling up beside him. Dean hissed softly as he moved his right arm around her, her head resting on his shoulder. She tilted her face up to his and lightly kissed him. Their lips touched softly, as if she was afraid she would hurt him. He was hurt but not dead. Dean kissed her a little harder.

"Dean, you really don't remember the accident," Abby asked, breaking their smooch, staring into his eyes. He knew she was searching his mind.

"Accident?"

"You three were in the car. Dylan was driving…the ghost ran in front of another car and-and it hit your car."

His eyes widened. Why was Abby alone? What happened to his son? His heart rate skyrocketed.

"Is Dylan-is he-?"

"Shh, Dean. Calm down. It's important to keep your heartbeat level. Dylan is just fine," she sighed with relief. "Being half of me worked out for him. Barely a scratch on em'. Sam broke some ribs, his arm and had a concussion. You got the worst of it. Well, you and the car."

Abby explained what had happened at the scene and the extent of his injuries. Yep, he felt pretty damn beat up. He scolded her for not leaving his side, not even to eat, although deep down he was really grateful for her presence. He was even more thankful for the awesome dreams she helped create. Dean made a mental note to make dreams reality when he was feeling a little better. A trip for him and Abby to their beach sounded nice and relaxing…possibly with sexy results.

"Are you feeling ok," she asked with concern. "Do you need anything? Are you hungry? I can always run out and sneak in a cheeseburger and fries for you."

God, he loved that woman.

"No, I'm actually feeling kinda…loose right now," he smirked devilishly.

"That's the morphine talking," she chuckled.

He tickled her side and motioned for her to get on top of him.

"Dean! No," she protested. "I'm not straddling you in a hospital bed." Her smile said otherwise.

"Come on. _Please_ get on top of me," he flashed her favorite adorable smile. She rolled her eyes, placing a leg on each side of his lap but keeping herself slightly off of his body.

"I just don't want to hurt you anymore than you already are," she sighed. "So, now what? You know, Sam's gonna bring the Doc back in here to do some tests on you, so make it quick."

"I just wanna make out with my wife a little. Is that so wrong?" He patted her behind lightly with his right hand.

"Well, I guess it's not _wrong_," she smirked, leaning her head down to give him a kiss. He tasted her deeply, his throat still burning, but he didn't care. After all they had been through, any time apart was too long. He hated to put his wife through a near-death experience…yet again. And, again, he had a shamrock up his ass and managed to get through it. Amen to that.

He hissed as Abby put some weight on his pelvis.

"Ugh, get off!" She must have shifted him just enough so that he pinched a nerve. He just felt really…numb. Actually, from the waste down, all he did was feel tingly.

He closed his eyes through the pain.

"Ab, I said get off!"

"I am! I'm sorry," she said, already standing next to his bed. "What's wrong?!"

"Probably just a pinched nerve," he winced. "I just feel really numb."

"Numb? Numb how?"

"I-I can't feel my legs."


	21. Undertow

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/22/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

April threw her torque wrench violently against the wall of the garage, so hard it went straight through. Oops.

Fuck it. She didn't care. Her body slunk down behind the wrecked Impala, her head leaning against the bent back bumper. Tears flowed freely down her face and she let herself sob. There was no point in keeping it in any longer; life sucked. That was all there was to it.

Her mind plodded through life's never ending array of shit.

First and foremost was Dad. She cried, her heart clenching every time she thought about it. Her strong Daddy was hurt and hurt badly. Granted, she was so thankful that he pulled through, but she knew what her dad was thinking. Well, SHE didn't know, not like her mom, but she had a pretty good idea. He was always resilient, independent and the protector and now he was being waited on. Dean Winchester wasn't a big fan of being taken care off. She figured it was because he had always, besides when his mother was alive, taken care of himself or Sam; he just wasn't used to it.

His injuries from the accident weeks before had caused a lot of damage. Thankfully, most healed or were in the process of healing. The biggest and most devastating one, however, was the one that remained; her dad still couldn't feel his legs. When her mom first heard him say those words in the hospital, she grabbed the first doctor she saw and dragged him to Dean's room. That doctor became two, than three until there was a fortified group of them. From what they determined, it was either swelling on his brain or his spinal cord. Since nothing else was being effected that was life threatening, such as heart function and breathing, they didn't seem too worried about it. They said it could possibly go away. Meaning, Dean's paralysis may be permanent or not; the quacks had no frickin' clue. She desperately hoped it was the latter.

Mom took over as soon as she heard of his injuries, demanding answers and ways to help. After another four days in the hospital with no change in Dean's numbness, but he felt better overall, her mom made sure he got discharged so she could take care of him at home. They sent her home with supplies for his health, prescriptions and a list of times for mandatory physical therapy sessions back at the hospital. The worst of the situation was the wheelchair. For the interim, that was his mode of transportation. He _hated _it. April knew it made her dad feel weak and...useless. She would feel the same way, especially after hunting. If you sat on your ass and didn't go out there, a person would die. That's how it worked and that's how she'd feel; like a failure.

Abby had relocated all their belongs from upstairs down to the bigger guest bedroom on the first floor so she could be by Dean. He had more freedom downstairs, getting up and going where he pleased with his chair. She even ordered a shorter bed so he could get into it himself. It was still a king-size for the two of them; Dad couldn't sleep without Mom beside him after he woke up from his coma. They both seemed to have a sort of separation anxiety.

For the most part, her mom made sure that her dad still had his independence. He seemed happy about that...seemed being the key word. Since he came home, April could see her dad slipping deeper and deeper into depression. Combine that with Vicodine and the beer he'd been sneaking and the man was miserable, and had a way of making everyone else miserable around him. She confronted him about his philosophy to 'healing' and he got pissed. She walked away.

The only person he seemed genuinely happy around was Jamie. Jamie could make him smile like no other. Funny, because her little brother had the ability to make you feel awesome since he was a teeny kid. He was almost borderline empathic, able to pick up on feelings and turn them around. Mom said it was because her little miracle was touched, whatever that meant.

On top of everything, ever since Dad came home from the hospital two weeks before, Mom had been hovering. The hovering had caused fighting. Dad, in a drunken stupor, told Mom she should leave him if he didn't get his legs back.

"I don't want you sitting here taking care of me if I don't get these back working, Ab! If I can't, you should move on and have a happy life with a real man," Dean yelled, his voice cracking on the verge of sobs.

"Dean Winchester, you are an idiot! After everything we've been through…you say something as asinine as… YOU are insane," she screamed, hitting the wall. Flakes of paint fell onto the floor in the living room where April sat listening.

There was a period of silence, a clear standoff, until she heard her mom's heavy sigh.

"Dean, I will _never_ leave your side. _Do you know how much I love you? _Do you know what I would do for you? Absolutely anything. I'd give you my legs if I could. I'm going to help you heal, babe. I'm not going anywhere."

Period. End of story. Dad was silent, but his daughter knew beneath that mask he was so sad for his wife. He was always remorseful for others before himself.

And then there was Dylan. After she had revealed herself to be...well herself, he was a statue. It gotten worse when she explained to him that he was half as well, their mother being the supplier of those particular genetics. He could barely look at Abby the next time he saw her.

So, to cope, he had developed a ritual; get up, go to school, come home late at night, go to bed. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

April knew everything was too much for him. Hell, it was all too much for her, but he was needed at home. Mom needed him and Dad sure as fuck did. Dylan was just being freakin' selfish.

On his way out the door a few days previous, she blurred in front of him and blocked his path.

"Dyl, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, trying to move around her. She put her hand on the doorframe.

"We do. Right now. Why are you running? You're never home anymore."

"I just can't be around here right now," he replied stoically, looking past her through the open door.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! Really?! Your dad is in the other room, hurt, scared and you're off where during the day…screwing around with your new girlfriend?"

"HEY! Don't talk about her like that," he snarled before his face softened. "Look, I-I just have some stuff I have to deal with, ok? I guess I appreciate you telling me about everything as a warning but-"

"But?"

"I can't help but feel like I have something evil inside me."

"What is that supposed to mean," she scoffed, feeling offended.

"Well isn't it? You're something that you hunt! Don't you feel abnormal? _Not human_?"

April felt the blood rise to her cheeks and she smacked him across the face. Her brother stared back at her in disbelief, holding a hand to his shocked cheek.

"Dylan Winchester, _you _are a jerk! Do you really think Mom and I are evil!? You haven't seen evil yet, _boy_." She snarled at him, feeling her canines trying to extend. April did her best to keep them back.

In a blur, she stood back, letting him exit.  
"Fine, go. Run away. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."

"April-"

"JUST GO!"

As he left, she felt the first unused tears run down her face. That was a crushing blow; her brother thought she was evil.

Dylan's girlfriend Becky had called later that evening to let Abby know that he was going to stay the night over there. She didn't want his family to be worried. Mom thought it was really nice of her. Dad thought he was whipped.

The big cherry on top of life's poisoned ice cream was she was dumped…or whatever it was. Worst part was, it was via text message.

Still on the floor of the garage, she fished her phone out of the pocket of her work clothes, staring down at the simple words:

_A-_

Probably best if we don't see each other anymore. I don't want to hurt you. You deserve better.

- J

Not even a 'it would be better if we're friends.' Words with no real explanation.

April didn't know how to feel but numb. Her head slipped into her hands, her mind seeing him in her mind. His sparkling blue eyes. His smile. The taste of his lips. The way she felt safe in his arms. Her name falling from his perfect lips.

They'd only been seeing each other on and off for a month, but she had felt very connected to Jesse. Although they had only seen each other in person a handful of times because of their jobs, they did speak to each other over the phone on a nightly basis.

He helped her get over the shock of who she really was. He consoled her when her dad was hurt. He gave her the strength to tell her brother everything. He even had the audacity to tell her he'd never felt closer to anyone else in all his years. He said she was beautiful.

She tried calling him, even just to rip into him. Jesse didn't answer. Her only route to communicate with him was through Wesley, who said he hadn't seen him in a few days. Just perfect.

Using her one clean sleeve, she wiped the tears from her face, getting herself up to find another wrench. Finally grabbing the one she needed, she got back to work. Fixing the Impala was the one thing in her life she had control over. Besides, she wanted to get her purrin' again for her dad. Maybe seeing his baby in one piece would give him hope about getting better.

She put Metallica on her MP3 player, got under the hood and went to work.


	22. Getting Thru?

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/28/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy._

_AUTHOR NOTE: This chapter does contain a spoiler from my other story "Broken," which is the second story of the series. Just a heads up. :-) Also, Kim Manners, a director and producer of "Supernatural" died on 1/25/09. Some of my favorite episodes of the series were directed by him. He was truly a master of his craft, whose enthusiasm and expertise help make the show simply great. He will be missed._

Dean sat in his wheelchair by the window, watching his young son playing catch with a friend from up the road. They were laughing, jabbin' each other, running to tackle one another. He sighed. He wished he could join em,' but the simple truth was he physically couldn't. Dean hated himself. Those fucking doctors didn't know shit. They kept playin' with his emotions, giving him hope. _Fuck hope. _Hope wasn't there with him at his therapy sessions, when he'd try in vain to move his legs. A twitch. A shudder. _Anything. _There was zilch, just the same dead weight and lack of sensation. That didn't mean he was gonna quit; he was still going to _try_ and give it his all. But, he had to admit, after weeks of sitting in that goddamn chair, it was getting to a point where he was frustrated. It was like being up on the rack again but with no offer to get down. He was trapped. Part of him was waiting for a bargain...from anyone...he even began to wonder about the crossroads up the road...maybe...

"Hey," she sighed, leaning her back against the bedroom doorjamb.

He smiled sadly at her before turning his head back to watch his son. Dean couldn't look at her. He'd been doing his best over the past few days to keep his distance. God knows he didn't want to hurt her; he loved her more than _anything_, but staying with a cripple would only hurt her more in the long run. She didn't deserve that.

Dean heard her shift lightly, knowing she was still at the door frame, waiting for permission to enter their bedroom. Part of him said to ignore her, that it was for her own good. But, damn it, that other part of him, that piece that made it hard to breathe when she was around. The portion that made his heart burn and twist when he thought of a life without her. That part wanted her near him; forever.

He could never deny her presence was captivating. Even after all the years they'd been together, he was still intrigued by the little things. How she made no sound when she moved, even when she wasn't trying to be stealthy. How she'd laugh musically even at his corniest jokes. How she'd smile brightly at him whenever he'd enter a room. How, despite the darkness of her eyes, they sparkled. Her taste. Her smell. Her touch. The intense way he could feel her staring at him even when he was looking away.

He tried to remain steadfast in his convictions, refusing to break down. That is, until he thought of her again at _her_ weakest. The wind caressing her dark hair as she stood on the balcony; on a precipice. At her darkest moment, he wouldn't let her go. There was no freakin' way she was going to give up and go out that way. Not like that. So, he had raced to her and pulled her back to safety even as she fought him. There wasn't anything she could do to get rid of him, not even the look of hate she had as she stared back at him, her arm bleeding, her skin flaking and bubbling off her arm.

And that night, he fell in love with her as she fell asleep, her chilled body secure in his warm arms.

He didn't want to go on with his plan; his design to give her a better life. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy her around, but she had stuff she needed to do. There were places she was needed more.

With a heavy sigh, he gestured for her to come over. He patted his lap, flashing her an easy, adorable smile. Abby seemed shocked at his proposal but involuntarily continued to move towards him. She gently placed herself on his lap, not sure of where to put her hands. He put his left arm over her shoulder, his right hand lightly caressing the left side of her hip. She smiled and leaned her head against his. Dean ran a hand through her hair as they watched Jamie play with his little dorky friend, Scott. They remained in semi-awkward silence until Dean decided it needed to be broken.

"Jamie told me you wouldn't let him play baseball at the park district this summer."

"Yep. That's what I said," she replied emotionless.

"He seemed pretty bummed."

"Dean, there are not enough hours in the day…even for me," she smirked. "I don't have time to take him there."

"But, Ab, he really wants to…"

"No one can take him, Dean."

"April?"

"Between school, working at the garage and hunting, she's booked solid."

"Hunting?"

"Not alone," she reassured. "She's on one with Jo right now and Ruby just left to join them. They needed her expertise."

"Demons?"

"Sounds like it."

"Sam?"

"Taking care of customer service at the garage while April works on fixin' the cars."

"Dylan?"

"Ha," she huffed. "Good luck with that one. Your son won't talk to me."

"And you," he asked, his eyes filled to the brim with sadness for his wife.

"I'm not leaving you, so get that thought outta your head, Winchester."

"Ab, I think he should get to play. It'll give him some normalcy. Jamie deserves that, just like we gave it to the other two."

"No. We're all sacrificing, Dean."

"Well," he said, feeling the anger and frustration build up. "Maybe you shouldn't be, Ab."

Her face inched closer to his, her eyes intensely gazing into his own. Abby's lips brushed against his as she spoke with absolute conviction.

"I told you when we got married for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, till death do us part. This is worse and sickness. I'm here. That's what those words mean. Anyone can stick it out when it's all rosy and cheerful, it's _these_ times right now that count. **I love you**. I'm here and fulfilling my vow as your wife and partner. You're stuck with me."

_Fuck. _She was right. But, did that mean she needed to be by him 24/7? Abby needed a life too! He wouldn't allow her to forgo everything that was normal just for him.

"Listen," he said, turning his gaze away. "I was thinking about what the doc said a few days ago."

She straightened herself up, giving him her undivided attention.

"He thought it would be easier for all of us if - if we got a nurse."

He could feel her start to shiver all over. Dean wondered if she was cold, but that was impossible. It was then that he realized it was because she was angry. Very angry. Fuming. Her eyes could have burned a whole through the wall.

"Just to take me back and forth to the therapy sessions," he continued. "Just when we'd need her. I-I think it'll make things better on all of us. You could run errands and do things like take our son to do fun things like baseball…" He continued giving her reasons why it would be a good idea. Funny how things sound better in your head than when they're actually spoken.

"Ab, she wouldn't be staying here or anything. Really, just picking me up and dropping me off from the sessions. That's four hours that you could do stuff-"

Abby's tremors became more violent, to the point where his own body and even the chair started to vibrate.

Very quickly, she zoomed off of the chair and appeared again in the opposite corner of the bedroom.

"You-you don't want me to help you anymore," she wept.

"No, no that's not-," he sighed, feeling the lump build in his throat. He never meant to make her feel like that.

"I don't want free time! I love caring for you, Dean! I want to soak in every minute I have with you! Do you know that's what I think of when I see you?! The minutes ticking away? Every moment I have left with you, no matter what the circumstances, is beautiful. I don't care how I spend it. _I want you_," she cried. "Do you want me?"

_Oh god._

"Ab, I love you- I just think you need to have sometime to do stuff. To be free-" His words were coming out all wrong and she was taking them completely out of context.

Her eyes widened at his words. He didn't need her power to know she was taking his suggestion the wrong way. She probably thought he was breaking up with her…but that wasn't the idea…not until he knew if his condition was permanent. Even then, he'd never be over her. Ever. Abby was the love of his life and the mother of his children. She was his everything.

Abby remained in the corner, sitting with her arms around her knees, her face fallen. It almost killed him to see her so sad.

"Abigail," he choked out. "I wasn't trying to do anything wrong. I really am only trying to help you."

"I'm not the one who needs help!"

"You do. You're exhausted! You can't be Supermom when you're takin' this much time to take care of me. Look, I appreciate everything you do for me, but I'm getting better, right? I can do things to help_ you_ now. I can even get the kid's lazy butts outta bed to get to school…and get them their breakfast. You don't need to do everything! You should have sometime to relax and be you and not my nurse!"

She stared back at him, her face still covered with tear stains.

"I just can't drive, Ab. This place says they have nurses who can do this transportation thing. It would free up some time and you wouldn't have to go with me."

"I like going with you."

"Maybe I want to go there alone to work out." It was kinda true. He did find it sorta distracting to have her there when he'd worked out. For some reason, he felt weaker in front of her. He hated that she saw him in that condition. After all, he had a reputation as a pretty kick-ass hunter to uphold.

Dean stared down at his hands as he continued.

"You know I love you, babe. This is just better for all of us."

He heard Abby shift in the corner, standing firmly in front of him, handing him the phone.

"Fine. You want a nurse to help you because you think me helping you is a burden? Be my guest. Here's the phone. _You call_. I want no part in it."

Dean grabbed the phone before she turned to leave. He unlocked the brakes on the wheels of the chair and rolled after her, moving his arms quickly to catch up to her.

She was in the living room putting on her high black boots, finishing by throwing a hat on her head.

"Where are you goin'." he asked curiously.

"Hunting," she answered stoically as she zipped out the door, slamming the screen behind her.

_Hunting? Did she have a case?  
_  
His eyes widened as he realized what she meant;_ her_ kind of hunting. As in vampire. Abby hadn't hunted since before they'd gotten married. Something was wrong.

He rolled to the door, opening it so he could look out. No sign of her. She was probably already in the woods across the way. Nothing made him feel more powerless than to be in that chair at the very moment, when he would have usually ran after her. Instead, he hit his fists against his dead legs, beggin' them to work.

"ABBY!"


	23. Scars in the Making

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **01/29/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Sam slammed on the brakes as he stopped in the driveway. He shut the car door hard behind him before he raced to the door. Dean had called frantic on the phone earlier, to the point where he was scared.

"Uncle Sam," Jamie yelled, waving his arms.

"Hey buddy," he said, giving him a hug. "Where's your dad?"

"In the house," he sighed.

Sam jumped up the first steps and opened the door to find Dean sitting in his chair, his eyes full of fear.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"No, Sam, I'm not freakin' all right. Abby left if a huff...and said she was goin' to hunt."

"As in?"

"The need to feed."

"Oh. Well how angry - "

"Pissed. I'm just...worried. You know how she can get sometimes when she's upset. I just wish I coulda ran after her myself." Sam's heart sank as he realized how upset his brother really was.

"Dean, why was she so upset?"

He had told Sam before that he was going to bring up the idea of a nurse to help. It wasn't a terrible idea but they had both known there was a good chance Abby was going to take it the wrong way. And when Dean talks, he did have a tendency to put his foot in his mouth.

But Sam knew Abby; she wasn't angry...she was _hurt_. There was a big difference, and an even bigger difference in her reaction.

"She thought I was pushing her away."

"Well weren't you, Dean? I've seen how you've been around her lately. You hardly talk to her. What the fuck are you doing?!"

"I DON'T KNOW, SAM! I HAVE NO FREAKIN' CLUE WHAT THE HELL I'M DOING ANYMORE!"  
His brother punched the wall next to his chair, leaving a hole in the drywall.  
"Ok, so what if I am, Sam..."

"Then you're stupid."

"Why? Is it wrong for me to want her to live with someone who isn't crippled?"

"Dean, it's only been a month! You gotta give it some time. There's a good chance you can heal."

"And if I don't?"

Sam knew Abby would never leave him under her own volition. She loved him as much as Dean loved her; they were just both too stupid and stubborn to realize it sometime. The fact was Abby would only leave if Dean asked her to, and if she had been getting that vibe from him, she was most likely really confused and hurt.

"Do you know how hard this is Sammy?"

He didn't know how to answer.

"No, you don't. That's what you were looking for. You don't have a frickin' clue what it's like to be me right now."

"No, I don't, Dean."

"Well let me give you a peek. I drag these useless pieces of crap around all day in a chair," he said, slapping his thighs. "Sure, I can sit in a shower and bathe myself. Hell, I can even make my own meals at the table. Great, right? Can't drive. Besides the fact my poor car is totaled, I couldn't drive her if I wanted to. Promised my wife when I woke up we'd go on a vaca and walk on the beach…oh wait, I said walk. Do they make wheelchairs that can go in sand?"

"Dean-"

"Wait, I'm not done! Can't go huntin'. It would take all of three minutes for me to be toast. Can you even outrun a spirit in one of these," he chuckled sarcastically. Sam hated when his brother would joke about things he was in actuality upset about. Dean's mocking smile faded and he exhaled deeply, his breath ragged as if he were going to cry.

"But, do you know what the worst thing is, Sam? The thing that cuts me to the core? I can't even make love to my wife. Do you know how that is? To see her every goddamn day, so perfect and beautiful and you just wanna show her how much you love her? Fuck, I've turned into such a pussy."

Sam approached Dean and patted his shoulder. He hadn't thought about some of the issues Dean had to overcome in his condition. But, what about those that he couldn't like her just mentioned? Sometimes, his brother gave him the distinct impression that he'd rather be dead than enduring such hardship. That's what killed him. As much support as he could give, Sam couldn't heal him and it hurt. There was only so much that he could actually do for him, and he was going to do it.

"So, what, do you want me to go after her?" Sam patted his brother's shoulder again, finding Dean's eyes starting into his own, full of regret.

"Sam, I don't even know where the fuck she went. I saw her run towards the woods across-"

"I think I know where she could have gone, Dean. But, if I bring her back, can you do me a favor?"

His brother looked up and nodded.

"Lay off of her for a little while. She just cares about you. And, don't make decisions for her. It's not fair to either of you, ok?"

As Sam left to find his sister-in-law, he thought back to years before to a conversation that seemed to resonate with compelling accuracy.

_"You know what I mean, Dean. I mean, do you think we'll still be chasing demons when we're 60?"  
_

"_No. I think we'll be dead. For good. Why, do you want to end up like... like Travis? Or Gordon, maybe?"_

_**"**There's Bobby."_

_**"**Oh yeah, there's a poster child for growing old gracefully."_

_**"**Maybe we'll be different, Dean."_

"_What kind of koolaid you been drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody- or sad- that's just the life."_For a while, Sam had thought they had it all, that maybe he was wrong. After all, they had made it through an impending apocalypse. But now, he saw Dean was probably right. Even if it were true, Sam knew two things; he would rather see it sad than bloody and would rather see his brother paralyzed than dead.

* * *

He knew she heard him approach, crunching leaves underfoot. She sat near the creek bed, her feet dangling in the cool water. He figured she might have come to that spot; Sam knew where she went when she was upset. Abby pulled her legs out of the brook, close to her chest, protectively.

"Hi Sam," she murmured.

"Hey Ab," Sam replied, plopping down next to her in the wet grass.

"Dean send you," Abby asked, turning her head towards him, her face tear stained. Sam swallowed and nodded in reply.  
"Figures."

"Are you ok," he said, cautiously reaching for her hand.

Her body trembled as she shook her head no.

"I killed for the first time in a long time tonight, Sam."

He froze.

"It was a deer. I - I was just so upset and I could smell her. I hunted her down Sam and took out all my anger on her."

_Phew._

"But, before I jumped her, when I was so overwhelmed by that urge to kill...I could hear a jogger on the path and god knows I was on my way to him. The deer just happened to have crossed my path and I jumped on it instead. Sam, I was _so close_."

Sam put his arm around her and pulled her to his side, rubbing her arm sympathetically. Abby went on, explaining how, after she killed the deer she hated herself.

After she realized how close she had truly come, she wanted to go out into the sun and take the bracelet off. But she couldn't, not like before. Now, she had so many responsibilities and people who needed her. Who depended on her. Who cared about her. It wasn't like the first time when she was alone and it seemed like no big loss. She knew that doing it would damage her family worse than it already was, possibly beyond repair. God knows her family had enough problems as it was. No need to add anything else, and even more tragic, to the list. Sam's eyes instinctively passed over the scars on her left forearm, that still remained from that fateful morning years before.

She played with the amulet around her neck, twisting the silver between her thumb and forefinger. Sam asked if she had gotten a new one made, knowing she had snapped the other one to pieces the night she had confronted her daughter.

"Yep. I didn't want to read Dean's mind," she smiled softly. "Well, I did. Let's face it, I can be nosy." He laughed and told her that was definitely true. "But," she continued, "I thought he'd need some privacy. Besides, you don't need to read minds to know he's planning to push me away."

"I don't think that was what he was trying to do," Sam lied. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Sam please. Ray Charles could see that. I don't blame him. He's depressed and he's just one of those people who hates not seeing results right away. I can see that when he works out. He does one set and wants to be running around again. Unfortunately, that's just not how the human body works."

"Abby…I - I don't think that's really his intention. He doesn't want to do it. Really, he doesn't."

"Doesn't help that he was hopped up on so many pain meds either. He's gonna be pissed when he realizes I flushed all the Vicodine down the toilet…and I emptied all the liquor bottles," she smiled slyly. "He was relying too much on them. His doc gave me a new script for him. Something less addictive. He'll probably hate me for it, but I don't care."

Sam hugged her closer, rubbing her arm and felt her leaning into his side.

"Listen, how about I let Dean know you're ok and you can rest at my house for a little while, until he cools off? _I'll _tell him about the pills and stuff. You can just nap for a while. I mean, you're still exhausted even though you fed."

"Uh huh," she yawned.

Sam smiled and helped her up, finally able to use both arms again. They walked together to his car and drove silently to his house.

* * *

Abby submerged herself in the bathtub, feeling the soothing warm water surround her, the evidence from the forest incident washing away. It felt good and she needed it. Her head reemerged, her black hair slicked back, looking particularly dark against her alabaster skin. She rested her neck on the chilled basin, the rest of her body engulfed in warmth, the soft, fragile bubbles caressing her skin.

She could hear Sam talking to Dean over the phone in the other room, reassuring her husband that she was indeed alright. Dean pressed that he wanted to see her; Sam said he'd bring her back in a little while. He didn't tell his brother what she had done in the woods. Good. She knew her husband would freak out. Instead, he freaked out over the medication issue that Sam let slip. Dean was upset. Oh well. He didn't need that strong of meds anymore. He was just using that and the alcohol as a crutch, just like he used booze after he came back from Hell. On top of that, he had already made arrangements for the stupid nurse while she was gone. _Perfect._

A knock at the bathroom door took her away from her thoughts.

"Hey," Sam said softly from the other side of the door. "Are you alright? I figured you heard everything."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

"Just relax," he said. "I'll bring you back later when you're ready." She could hear Sam push away from the doorframe and head down the stairs to give her some privacy. Abby smiled, feeling lucky to have such a caring brother-in-law.

Abby wondered when she'd be 'ready' to go back home; she was always ready to go home. But…there was this part of her that felt as if she couldn't deal with much more. As she laid in the quiet tub, she realized that everything, the stress and tension, was finally taking its toll. There'd only be so much more she take before she finally snapped.

She couldn't. Abby knew she had to be the strong one for all of them now. She couldn't let the big or small things get to her.

But they had and with an almost disturbing cost. Her heart sank as she thought about what she almost committed. After everything she had tried to instill into their daughter, she had gone against her own advice; never let the need engulf you. She had let it take her, the thundering, pulsating need in her body pushing her forward. Her canines had itched with anticipation, the sound of the runners pulse echoed in her ears, her gate matching his as she stalked. Thank god for that deer. But, perhaps, next time, she wouldn't be so lucky.

Abby pondered that thought. She'd shattered before with devastating consequences to the people who loved her. She made a vow to herself right then and there; if it happened again, if she felt herself slipping into that dark place, she'd have to go away. She wouldn't make the same mistakes again.


	24. Trippin' on a Hole in a Paper Heart

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until **01/29/09**. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

April fell down on her soft bed, exhausted from her last hunt. It was her first experience with a shapeshifter and it was _awesome_. She and Jo helped save a company that was being terrorized by a takeover of the supernatural kind. Seriously. It may her feel pretty damn good to gank the creature.

She came home to a different feeling. When she had left to go out with Aunt Jo, there was tension at home but now; now it was so dripping with friction she could taste it. Her body tingled like she was trapped in an electrical current, her skin registering every change in mood. It freaked her out and, to be honest, scared the living shit out of her.

In fact, it had bothered her mom so much that she had sent her little brother to stay at her Uncle Sammy's for a while. It was for the best. The poor kid didn't need to deal with any of that. Jamie had cried, not wanting to leave Dean. April had the horrible feeling that Jamie thought he'd never see his daddy again. Being the older sister, she reassured him that that wasn't going to happen, and she drove him to their aunt and uncle's home.

Since she returned, she noticed a difference in her mom's aura. Abigail Winchester was usually beautiful, elegant, refined, intelligent, well-spoken and, above all strong, something she herself had greatly admired. But, now, her mom seemed like she was walking on broken glass. It didn't help that Dad had gotten a nurse to help him out. Nurse Hannah seemed nice in that fake sort of way. And by fake, I meant everything. She was the perfect blonde, Playboy-esque nurse you could get. Blonde, busty and had something to cure all your ills, she thought sarcastically. April wondered how her mom could stand that woman bouncing, literally, around her house every other day. She would have felt very self-conscious. Her mom seemed unfazed by the new woman's presence.

"As long as it helps your father heal, I don't mind," she smiled softly. "Besides, she ain't got nothin' on me." April laughed as her mom winked and went on with the laundry. But behind that strong self-assuredness there was sadness. Whether or not she would actually admit it, she had been cut, deeply while her daughter was gone. Refusing to discuss anything with her was not helping. A very Winchester thing to do; secrets were a family trait.

Secrets. Oh the mysteries. She had many herself, refusing to let her parents become involved. They had their own burdens to bear. Her problems were her own to deal with.

On her last hunt, she had gotten a call from Wesley. She made arrangements to meet him at a bar in Texas near where she had finished her hunt. April made sure to sneak out quietly, not wanting to wake her sleeping aunt. Somehow, she managed to meet up with him without incident.

April had walked into the crowded bar, searching for him, and had finally spotted him at a table near the very back. He greeted her with a sad smile, his short , dark hair almost the same color as his eyes. With a quick movement, he had politely pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"Thanks," she sighed.

"You're very welcome," he purred, his voice seductive. She had missed his charm the last time she'd seen him. He had apologized for the whole blood drinking incident when they had first met…and also for his best friend's absence. He too was shaken by his friend's sudden disappearance.

"Any sign of him," April asked, swirling her vodka cranberry, before taking a drink.

"No," he replied, his eyes focusing on her. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking? Shall I call the barkeep over to check your ID?"

April rolled her eyes and took another deliberate sip, reveling in the smile that spread across his lips. He lifted his own glass to her, licking his lower lip before taking a sip.

She had to admit, he was handsome. _Very handsome_. April looked around the bar, finding all the women in there giving him come-hither looks, playing with the spaghetti straps of their tank tops or finding ways to bend over, revealing their thongs. And they looked at her as if she was in their way.

_'Come and get em,' _she thought with a laugh. She hiccupped a little too loudly, causing Wesley to chuckle.

"I think you should slow down," he smirked, his eyes glancing down to the three empty glasses in front of her.

"Nah," she answered, gesturing for another one.

"Seriously, April," he scolded, his dark eyes stone cold.

"I'll be fine."

"Fine enough to go back to your Aunt?"

"Fuck," she sighed. She had forgotten about that. If Jo knew she was drunk, so would Mom, then so would Dad. Meaning the end of her teenage lifestyle of going out anywhere. Although she had heard the stories of Dad's younger days, he was a stickler when it came down to his only daughter. Lucky her.

"I meant what I said before April. I am sorry about that night-"

"Forgiven," she waved at him. "Honestly, we were all stupid; all three of us." Her eyes sunk to the table, her fingers swirling around some of her spilled beverage.

A cold hand clasped over her own, his thumb stroking the back of her hand with care.

"I could kill him for leaving you," he said. "I don't know why he would commit himself to you then leave. You-you're so young. Your heart is fragile compared to-"

"You," she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Me? Maybe," he gave her a crooked smile. Her heart skipped. "After living as long as I have, I've had my share of heartache. I just choose not deal with it anymore. Besides, it's really complicated when you're a hunter."

"Yeah, so I've heard," she said, taking a swig of her beverage.

"You know, your parents are one of the only happy endings in our world. Well in two: hunting and human/vampire relationships. They're really almost…inspiring. I know I wouldn't have the strength."

"Well, it's not like there is never trouble in paradise," she slurred, throwing back her drink.

Wesley looked at her with curious eyes, his eyebrow lifting in anticipation. In her drunken stupor, April let it all slip. Everything. She bared her soul to him regarding the suckiness of her existence. And that was the reason why she was going hunting a lot; she couldn't stand to be home. Add to that fact that her only reliable emotional outlet had left her, she was miserable.

She felt a tear roll down her cheek followed by a cold finger swiping it away. Her green eyes met his black and she gasped. He was gorgeous. How did she not see it before? His eyes that were usually hard, calculating were seeking her own with concern. They were asking if she was going to be alright.

April chuckled awkwardly and shrugged. Well, at least she was being honest, she really didn't know. The drink brought the honesty out of her.

"You Shook Me All Night Long" cranked up on the bar speakers and she pulled on his hand, dragging him out onto the dance floor. In a sober state, she wouldn't have dared done that but with her head spinning, she didn't care. Wes' hands glided to her hips, softly resting against them, unsure as to her intent. She pressed him closer against her, grinding into him. He grunted.

"Careful, love," he whispered into her ear, his voice as smooth as silk.

Maybe she didn't want to be _careful_ anymore. In fact, part of her wished a particular vampire with piercing blue eyes and flaxen blonde hair would walk in right then and watch her dirty dancing with his best friend. She knew it would hurt him, and he deserved it. Sweet revenge.

April continued to dance with him, her body snaking against his own. She tossed her head back as she let the music take her, feeling the eyes of the other patrons looking at her. She knew how she looked to them; a young gorgeous drunk chick cutting loose. Even through her drunken blur, she could make out some whistling in her direction and something about taking it off. That in particular caused Wes to growl deep down.

Dancing may not have been the best idea after all. As she went to sit down, the room spun. Fuck, there was no way she could drive.

"I'll take you back," Wesley said, picking her up bridal style, chuckling as she hiccupped.

"No, if Jo saw you-"

"Well, it's not too late. I'll just bring you back to my place for a little while until you sober up…"

As she started to pass out, she realized she had no idea of where she was going and was in no condition to defend herself.

* * *

She woke up the next morning with the worst headache she ever had in her entire life.

"Oh," she moaned, feeling as if she were going to be sick. A cold hand immediately pressed against her head and she started to feel better. It was as if a power was going through her, vibrating her very core. The sick feeling immediately disappeared, as well as most of her headache.

"You're welcome."

Wide eyed, she rolled over to see Wes leaning on his side, his head propped up on a hand. They were in the same bed. She had stayed all night. And, he was bare from the waist up, his chest sculpted to perfection. April didn't dare look below the covers.

She didn't have to notice that her own clothes were on the other side of the room, leaving her clad only in her camisole and panties. Why was she half naked?

He chuckled at her confusion and jumped out of bed. April sheepishly covered her eyes.

"Don't worry," he laughed. He pointed down to his black boxers.

That was a relief…or was it?

Wes ran a hand through his jet hair, walking to her clothes, tossing them to her.

"Thanks." April hurriedly slid her jeans on under the blanket.

Flashes from the previous night started to make their way through to her thoughts. She was upset when they got to the hotel about…something or someone. That part was still foggy. April remembered sitting on her knees on the floor and then feeling arms around her. Secure, strong arms. And then a kiss. A deep kiss that rocked her to her very soul. It was a sad kiss from both ends, as if each person didn't want to pursue it further but couldn't help it.

And then she was on the bed, a body laying on top of her own. Clothes were removed. Their bodies rolled with each other's as their kisses grew deeper; her sadness being replaced by a passion she had never felt before.

But, then it abruptly stopped. She remembered feeling angry and self-conscious as he rolled off her, spewing something about not doing that to her in her condition. April had hit his bare chest and told him to get on top of her…and then mumbled something about being hungry. A hand had stroked her cheek and asked when the last time she had fed. Fed? She had a cheeseburger that afternoon…and then she realized what he was asking when he commented on how white her pallor was.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted, cradled in strong arms. His hand had guided her head up to his own throat and he told her to drink. She refused, turning her head away in revulsion. She wouldn't do that. Besides, he was vampire, what good would it be to drink from him?

"I had human earlier, ok. It'll help," he sighed, annoyed by her lack of enthusiasm for his gift.

Human, she sighed, the sweet memory of the red liquid running down her throat. The feeling of euphoria that followed…_No._

She gently pushed him away, replying no thanks. Her mom would be proud.

"Suit yourself," he had replied, before snuggling up next to her in the large bed. She felt oddly safe in his arms. Almost as safe as she had felt in Jesse's. A small hole opened up in her chest and she felt Wes squeeze her in response, as if he knew.

April now laid in her own bed, in her own house, drifting off to sleep once more, but, one lone thought filled her mind. As she had let sleep take her the night before, she felt a tender kiss on her neck. It was so sweet and wonderful that even half-conscious she smiled. But, after that, was what really intrigued her; she heard him whisper almost inaudibly as if speaking to someone else, though no one else was in the room. His timbre was hard to read…was it meant to be sweet or possessive?

Just three simple words that echoed as she drifted away.

"She's mine now."


	25. Hand Me Down

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/29/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

He watched Becky intently as finished her homework across the table. Her stormy blue eyes smiled up at him. Dylan smirked back and watched her shiver, covered with goosebumps. There was something about him that always did that to her...and he filled him with a deep satisfaction. April had said that being a vam - nevermind. He would never be that. Ever.

Finished, Becky slammed her math book shut, causing a sudden gust that sent his own homework flying off the table.

"So, when are you going home," she asked with deadly seriousness as he picked the notebook paper off of the floor.

"Why? Do you want me to go," he replied, his eyes carefully searching hers. God he wished he could read her mind or make her understand.

"That's not the point," she said, putting her head in her hands, like she always did when she was frustrated. "The point is, you've been here a while now and I think you're just avoiding the issues at your house."

"Beck," he said, rubbing his temples. "This isn't something that you can just deal with - "

"Then what is it?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why the hell not?!"

Because I still don't believe it, he thought. And he had _seen_ it; everything. It had infiltrated every part of his family. Even little Jamie was part...

He swallowed that one down, not wanting to think of his younger brother's future. He'd make sure Jamie never knew about his parent's jobs.

"Fine, don't tell me," she shot back. "But don't you think it's at least time that I meet them?"

He had thought about it, but part of him didn't want her to get involved with his parents. After all, getting comfy with them meant getting somewhat involved with the other stuff. And he would die if anything happened to her by association; just like his Uncle Sammy's first girlfriend. He had learned from April how she met her grisly end.

On top of that, he didn't know if his dad would be up for any visitors or how cranky he'd be. Hell, he'd only talked to him on the phone a few times since he'd been over to Beck's house.

"Dyl, I would like to meet them. From what you told me, they sound awesome."

Used to be awesome, he thought sadly. What the hell happened? They all used to be so close.

"How is your dad doing," she asked, reaching across the table, giving his hand a squeeze.

He explained the situation's ups and downs, but from what his dad told him a few days before, getting the nurse was a great choice.

"Please," she begged him, squeezing her hand, pushing her lower lip out as she pouted. Fuck, he was no match for her.

* * *

He held the door open for her and offered her his hand as she exited the car. Dylan's heart pounded in his chest with apprehension. He didn't know what it was. After all, the old house on the corner was _his home_. Right? Didn't feel that way anymore.

Dylan opened the front door for Becky and gestured for her to enter.

"Mom? Dad," he called.

"Hey."

April stood in the hallway, leaning up against the wall. He had noticed a difference in her grace and posture since her…change. She was stealthy and moved with an almost cat-like slink. With that same air, she pushed off of the wall and walked to his girlfriend.

"You must be Becky," April asked, offering her hand to the nervous girl. "I'm April, Dyl's twin sister. His older and much wiser twin sister." She winked and smiled at the nervous girl, his girlfriend's eyes as wide as a fawns. Becky was smart to be nervous, she should be.

"Hey sis," Dylan said, pulling her in for a quick hug. "Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Mom's out running errands. I think she might go check in on Jamie. And Dad…"

"What, is he ok," Dylan said, suddenly feeling guilty for not being around. If something happened to him, he'd _never_ forgive himself.

"Oh, he's fine," she smirked. "_I'm_ the one in trouble."

"Oh," he asked, giving her a look, seeing if it was something better left to a private conversation.

"I kinda mentioned that I have a boy picking me up, so Dad's in super-ultra-mega protective mode," she laughed. "He's in the other room. He decided today was the right day to clean his weapons."

"Is your Dad a hunter," Becky cut in. Dylan and April both gave her a surprised look, but soon relaxed when they realized that she meant animal hunter.

"So, he's feeling better," Dylan asked, keeping his voice down.

"Yeah. That nurse is a miracle worker. Since she's been here, Dad's seemed really chipper."

"And Mom?"

"I think she's taking things in stride. I don't know how she stands it. I can't stand that nurse bitch."

"What? Is she mean to you," Dylan whispered.

"No. There's just something - off about her. I can't quite put my finger on it but…she makes me _uneasy_."

Dylan noticed the apprehensive gaze in his sister's green eyes and he knew they'd discuss the issue further later, when no eavesdropping humans were around.

"Come on," April said, grabbing Becky's hand and bringing her into the family room. "Have a seat. Dad will be right out."

April skipped off into the other room, leaving Becky and Dylan alone on the couch.

"Nice house," she muttered, her fingers interlaced with his.

"Thanks. We've been here most of my life." Before they had settled, his family had moved a few times, finding it hard to settle in one particular place. He had always wondered why. Now, at least, he had a good _idea_ of why. It had to have something to do with his parents' profession.

"Hey son," a familiar voice uttered. Dylan looked up to see his dad wheeling into the room. "Come here."

Dylan approached him and was surprised as Dean pulled him down for a hug. He instinctively wrapped his arms around him and found it surprising at how strong his dad felt. His arms were like vice grips.

"Good to have you back, Dylan," he smiled up at him.

"Thanks. You look good, Dad."

"Nah, I look like shit," he smirked, before turning towards the nervous brunette. "You must be Becky. Hi, I'm Dyl's dad." He rolled over to her, lightly shaking her hand. "Nice that my lazy son finally decided to bring you over."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she chuckled, elbowing Dylan in the side. "It's great to meet you, Mr. Winch-"

"Dean. Just call me Dean," he smiled.

"Ok…Dean," she smirked. "I'm just sorry your wife isn't here."

"She'll be back soon. Stick around. We'd love to have you over for grub," he smiled. "My wife is a killer cook. Is your new man gonna stay too, April?"

"No, we have to leave. School stuff," she lied. Dylan could see that from a mile away.

A knock at the door interrupted their convo.

"Oh, that must be him," he said, smiling as he wheeled back into the dining room. "I wanna meet him, April, so don't you just take off, got it?"

"Fine," she muttered, making her way to the door. She opened it reveal a boy, most likely eighteen or nineteen years old..and there was something off about him. He heard Becky as she gasped next to him. Yeah, even he had to admit that he was a good-looking dude. The boy smiled as if he had heard his thoughts. He was shorter than himself, probably a little shorter than his dad as well. But he was lean, muscular and strong. There was a power emanating from him and something inside him felt danger. Dylan took a hold of Becky's hand and causally placed himself in front of her.

* * *

April pulled on his hand, practically dragging him into the dining room. Wes couldn't help but smile at April's pained expression. She'd get him later. Ass.

"It's traditional," he whispered so soft that no human could hear it. "I don't mind."

"For one, _my dad_ is not traditional by any means. And it's not like we're together," she smirked. "I'm going out with you on a hunt."

"I don't mind keeping up the illusion," he grinned. "Is it really that bad?"

No. No, it wasn't bad at all. However, part of her was still wary of him. Yes, he had apologized to her for the confusion when they first met and he had proved himself a little bit with their 'sleepover.' He had even remained a gentleman when she was incapacitated. Not that she wanted a gentleman necessarily, but it was nice to know that he wasn't using her. But those words that he had whispered as she fell asleep still rang in her head...

He gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze causing her heart to skip and he chuckled. Whether or not she trusted him, she definitely wasn't immune to his charms. Wes made her feel lighter and, dare she admit it, happy. Oh, lord, she thought. Should she get involved with another vampire again?

"Oh, hi, April," her dad smiled as she entered the room. "I was just cleaning some stuff. Where's your friend?"

April's mouth dropped as she saw the amount of ammunition her dad was 'cleaning.' A wide assortment of guns, a machete and his entire knife collection. She put a hand to her forehead, her body shaking from laughter. Only _her _dad would decide to bring out the whole cavalry over a _boy_. She could only imagine what he would do if he knew Wes was a vampire.

"Don't mind me," he said, throwing a knife to the wall with precision. "Just making sure they're ready for intruders. Hi, I'm April's dad." Dean put his hand out to Wes. He smiled and took his hand an April cringed. Would he notice the chilled touch of Wes' hand was the same as Abby's? Her heart pounded with anticipation in her chest. Wes found her gaze and winked, and something told her not to worry.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester," Wes smiled earnestly. "April's told me a lot about you."

"Not everything I hope," he smiled, causing April to laugh erratically. Her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings.

Wes took her hand in his and rubbed the back with his thumb. Dean's eyes glanced over their joined hands and he cleared his throat.

"So what are you two crazy kids gonna do tonight?"

"Dinner and a late movie," Wes answered, April still unable to get her bearings.

"Well not too late. She does have a curfew."

"Since when," April squeaked, finding her voice.

"Since right now. Sorry kid, thems the rules."

"Fine," she said. "Let's go." She pulled on Wes' sleeve, gesturing for him to go.

"Hey April, stay here for a minute," Dean said, moving closer to her. April waved to Wes, telling him she'd meet him in the car. After he left, she rolled her eyes at her dad.

"Having fun?"

"Yeah, I actually am," he smiled up at her. "Come here." She squatted down next to his chair. "I was just havin' a _little_ fun. After all, you're the only one I can do that too. My only girl." Dean brought his hand up to her cheek. "You grew up too fast."

She chuckled but there was something in his eyes that suggested that he had missed some of it. She wondered what that look meant. After all, he was always there as long as she could remember. The only time she ever recalled him being gone was when Uncle Sam and Aunt Ruby had taken her and Dylan on a vacation when they were about six. She didn't remember much of it, and there were no photos, but she did remember there were a lot of rocks and it was really hot. Did they road trip to the Grand Canyon or something? She'd have to remember to ask about it later.

"Go, have fun. But, not _too_ much fun."

"Alright, Dad," she smiled. God, she hated lying to him. The poor guy thought she was going on a date. What she really had a date with was one mean ass poltergeist downtown.

April got up to leave and felt her dad pull on her hand.

"Do you remember our special dating rules?"

"How can I forget. One: Sneak some holy water into his drink. Two: Accidentally jab them with something silver if possible during dinner or scrape em with my silver ring. Three: If you feel threatened, go for the groin and run," she recited, counting on her fingers.

"Don't forget about jabbing the nose up into the brain if you have to," Dean smirked.

"I won't. Thanks, Daddy," she smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze before rushing out the door.

Wes already had his sleek sports car running when she jumped in.

"You had to admit, that was pretty funny...and ironic," Wes smirked as he peeled out of the driveway.

"Still...sorry," she shrugged, biting her lip.

"Don't be. I'd probably do the same thing to my daughter," he laughed

She was about to ask if he had any kids, when a cellphone started to buzz. April checked hers and found it silent.

"It's mine," he said, "This is Wes."

She watched as his expression went from content to concern. He quietly snapped his phone shut.

"Change of plans," he stated, taking the highway West instead of East toward the city.

"What's going on?"

"Vampires."


	26. Soldier's Daughter

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 01/29/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"So, did my son ask you to Prom yet," Abby asked, pouring more coffee into a mug for his girlfriend.

"Thanks, Abby," Becky said, taking a seat next to his mother on the couch. He was surprised that they had hit it off so quickly, although he wasn't sure why. After all, his mother did have a very good report with most people. If only they knew that she could kill them with a snap of her fingers…or maybe that was the reason they trusted her. He wondered if she had some sort of power over people that rendered them weaker, much like a snake hypnotizes its prey.

Abby smiled up to her son and all his misgivings slipped away. She was his mother, the same one he always had. Loving, caring, gentle…she was the one who kissed his bleeding, scraped knees and nursed him if he ever felt ill. And, no matter what, he loved her. It only took a little gentle reminder.

"So, are you gonna ask her," Abby asked, raising an elegant eyebrow.

"Thanks for putting me on the spot, Mom," he smirked. "Well, I just thought since we were going out, it was a give in."

"You should still ask. It's traditional and I didn't raise my son to be a jerk," she winked at him. Becky raised her eyebrow at him and crossed her arms. "It's also customary to get her flowers."

"Yeah," Becky chimed in, smiling at his mom.

_'Oh boy,' _he thought with a smile,_ 'Mom's made a new friend and I'm outnumbered.'_

"On that note, I'm gonna go see what Dad's up to."

"Chicken," Abby joked, taking a sip of her coffee.

Dylan walked through the family room and made his way to the kitchen. As he rounded the corner, he was surprised to see Dean and his nurse chatting at the table. She was as good looking and as fake as April had described. Still, he was pretty sure Dean had hooked-up with a couple of chicks like that in his heyday.

He continued watching them from around the bend, not wanting to break the scene. There was something _off _about it. She was sitting at the kitchen table holding his dad's hand. Something didn't feel right to Dylan, at all. Perhaps she was just being compassionate, he considered but, the way she was stroking his hand…there was no way. It was too much like how Abby touched his hand or how he stroked Becky's before they fell asleep. It was very intimate.

"So, are we ready to go," Dean asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she replied with gusto. "Oh, I almost forgot; here you go." She pulled out a bottle and gave him two pills and pushed a glass of water across the table.

Pills? Didn't Mom say that Dad was off of pills?

Nurse Hannah smiled, one hand twirling her necklace, the other stroking Dean's face, before enthusiastically getting up to leave.

"Let's go," she smirked.

"Today's the day, I can feel it in my bones," Dean smiled up at her. She walked behind him as he wheeled out the backdoor and down the ramp Abby had installed for the interim.

After he heard the ignition of the car, Dylan sighed and went to investigate the kitchen, hoping to find a clue as to what the nurse had given his father. He came up with nothin. He made a mental note to tell his mother what he saw go down later on. Right now, she was having too much fun with his girlfriend and, in fact, she deserved some time fun time; the other stuff could wait. After all, it was probably nothing, he lied. His gut, however, told him otherwise.

No, he thought, he _needed _to tell her. It was unfair to keep information from her if he felt it was important. His fingers instinctively twirled the symbol around his neck; he knew what it was for now. April had filled him in on the details. With a lump in his throat, he took off the symbol from his neck and took a deep breathe. His skin tingled and something clicked in his mind. He vaguely remembered using his powers as a kid. But maybe...just maybe it was all part of his imagination, he mused. Dylan inhaled deeply, crossing that final line between the normal and the supernatural and pushed a thought to his mother.

_'Mom, we have to talk,' _he thought. He watched as her eyes snapped up to his, her black eyes mirroring the surprise of his own.

* * *

"So what's going on," April asked Wes as he broke every traffic law known to man to get to their destination.

"We're almost there," he mumbled.

"So what do we have to do?"

He glanced over to her in the passenger seat with a look that was a mixture of adrenaline and apprehension. The fear in his eyes weren't for himself. No, it was for her.

"Have you fed recently," he questioned.

"This morning. I had a whole bag."

"Of animal blood?"

"Yes."

His sigh had a tone of annoyance, displaying a clear disdain for her meal choice.

"This group of vampires feeds off of humans and they kill. I don't. It's more fun to play with your food - "

"I get it," she stopped him. "So, they've been killing?"

"And drawing attention to themselves. Funny, but it reminds me of a case a while back...one that I heard your Mom was in charge of."

That must have been the case where Mom and Dad met, she thought with a smile. Nothing more romantic than the blood of the innocent.

"Are you sure you are up for this," Wes paused, pulling over into a remote section of an unused road.

"Yeah. Plus you don't have a partner and I'm not going to let you go out there alone."

He smiled weakly to her, the grin fighting with the look of sadness in his dark eyes.  
"I'm not going to be able to keep an eye on you at all times...are you sure you're ready?"

"Hell yes," she smirked. "I can handle these punks, so don't you worry about that." She reached into the backseat of his car for her bag, pulling out the very sharp machete. "Let's rock."

Wes got out of the car and zipped around at inhuman speed to her side, courteously opening the passenger door for her. He offered her his hand and pulled her to his side. His lips brushed against her cheek, as if he were going to kiss her. Her heart thudded in anticipation. "There's a barn to the west a few miles, that's where they're hiding. Keep your senses open. Be careful," he whispered, his chilled breathe against her neck. And with that, he blurred off into the distance.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she took off running, the forest obscuring on either side of her. She kept her senses open as Wes' had demanded, listening intently to any signs of movement. Of course there was movement, she laughed, she was running through the frickin' woods. Critters darted on the ground, scurrying for food while other chased their prey. The forest was so _alive _during the night. How the hell had she not seen that before?

Her musings made her get caught off guard.

She felt something hard hit chest and then her body bounce off of the hard ground. Disoriented, April gazed up to see to see two men over her snarling, their eyes glowing in the darkness. They hissed at her, bearing their canines. Smiling, she used her mind to push them back as she bounded back up onto her feet. In a crouch, she hissed back at them with her own teeth lengthened.

They looked at her in confusion which mutated into overt hatred. After all, one of their own kind was trying to ruin their operation.

"Come on, which one of you bad boys wants me," she mocked as they hesitated in front of her, unsure of her. Finally one of them lunged at her. She quickly maneuvered to avoid him, lopping off his head in the process with her machete.

The other one ran away and she quietly took off after him. She pushed her body to its limit, her muscles tensing as she raced after her prey. But, in one instant she lost sight of him; he was gone. April abruptly halted, taking in the scene around her, searching the night.

That's when something knocked her from behind. She was being pinned down, the cold earth wet against her skin. With a deep growl, she fought her attacker, trying in vain to push herself off of the ground. A scream ripped through the night as she felt intense pressure on her forearm and the snap of bone. She struggled like a wild animal to regain her bearings, feeling her body burn with the strain. That's when she noticed how many hands were on her back; most definitely more than two. Her attacker wasn't alone.

Panic set in as she felt her body being rolled over. She figured that they would have sliced her head off already. Instead, she felt the sharp sting of a needle jabbed into her neck. April hissed as the injected liquid coursed through her body, setting in with every beat of her pulse. Her senses were slowing down and she felt dazed. Though the blurred vision of her eyes, she tried to focus on who was in front of her. A man and two women.

_'I'm gonna die,' _she thought. _'This is it.' _The looks in her attackers eyes sealed her fate; she was sure their cruel stares would be the last thing she ever saw.

The ground cover stained her clothes as they dragged her limp body through the woods by her wrists. Her mind faded in and out, trying desperately to focus on the situation at hand. Why were they carrying her off? Why didn't they just kill her and get it over with?

Her mind washed away, the sounds of the outside world sounding underwater. With out warning, angry snarls cut through the night accompanied with the sound of tearing flesh. April's head bounced off the soil, her body being tossed aside like a rag doll.

As the growling and shredding continued, she willed herself to focus and when she did, she saw the eyes of a killer staring down at her and a glinting knife shimmering in the moonlight. She desperately raised her arm to guard her throat. Her stomach heaved as the blade pierced her side. It burned through her flesh as it slid deep inside, twisting at a horrific angle. She could barely make out her own terrified screams in the distance through her fog.

"I got it," the female attacker said as she yanked the knife from her flesh, eliciting another screech from within.

_'What a strange thing to say,' _she thought to herself as her pulse pounded in ears, her blood flowing openly from the wound. She heard the sound of footfalls running farther into the distance followed by others approaching.

Several more moans cut through the air and she felt herself being lifted. Her eyes shut as the world flew by her visions.

"I'm gonna be sick," she mumbled, hissing as her abs contracted.

"Not in my car you're not."

She was carefully placed in a seat, the door slamming shut behind her.

"We gotta get outta here. there's more of them close behind," he hissed, revving the engine, the sudden force of speed causing her to lean over.

"There you go," he repositioned her to sit up straight. "Are you ok? I told you to be careful!"

"I was," she slurred. "I don't know what happened."

She felt strands of hair lifted off her neck.

"They drugged you with dead man's blood...oh and lovely, you let yourself get stabbed."

"I didn't let them, jerk," she winced. The pain was starting to come at her full force and she was getting dizzy. Spots appeared in her vision and she felt herself slipping away.

"April, stay with me," he said, sounding far away. "Stay - "


	27. Blue Moanin'

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"April," a voice called to her. The sound was devastating, the timbre in the voice heartbreakingly moving.

_'Don't be sad,' _she thought, forcing herself to wake up, but her body was too weak. '_Come on, April.' _She pushed herself, willing her eyes to open a tiny sliver. Her vision burned from the brightness in the room. _Room?_

April strained her eyes open farther, taking in more of the scene. She was staring up to a bubble-textured ceiling, lit by a mild, hardly effective lukewarm glow.

A small squeeze on her hand caught her attention. Her eyes skimmed the length of her arm until it came to her palm. A pale hand rested in her own, his thumb tenderly stroking her lifeline.

"Nice to see you awake," he said, holding back any emotion in his voice.

"Thanks," she said hoarsely, her voice hoarse. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours."

"Fuck, my curfew," she hissed, trying to get herself up to a sitting position.

"I already called your dad. I told him we decided to catch a later show. He's just glad I called."

"That's good. I wouldn't want to stress him out."

"You were stabbed and you don't want to stress him out? You're a strange girl," he smirked, lifting a gauze pad from her wound. "You're not healing very well. You need to eat something since you'll probably want to be healed before you go home."

She glanced down at it, her head falling back on the pillow as she felt sick to her stomach. Being knifed was a new one she could add to her list of ever-growing injuries inflicted upon her during hunts. A grunt escaped her lips as a stinging liquid was poured over her open skin.

"Damn it," she swore, fisting the comforter from the searing pain.

"It'll keep it clean. You need to keep infection away while you heal. I keep forgetting that you're part human. Your body may not react like our own in the healing process."

Her eyes tried to keep focus as her partner blurred away from her bedside, only to appear moments later, glass in hand.

"Drink it," he ordered, making sure to set it securely in her hands before sitting on the edge of the bed.

The warmth of the liquid heated her lips as she brought the mug closer to drink. Whatever it was, it smelt _really good_. It had an almost hypnotic effect over her senses, her mind swimming with the delicious-smelling liquid. She remembered feeling that way when she was little, coming in from a cold winter snow day. April and her brothers would be chilled to the bone, Dad would start up the fireplace and sit down with them, asking about the result of the snowball fight. Then Mom would appear with five big mugs of hot chocolate, and not the kind of the packets. Oh no. Mom thought those were blasphemous. She'd make it from _scratch _and would always top it off with whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate syrup. That's what the drink currently in her hand reminded her off…and that in turn reminded her nothing of animal blood.

"This is human," she said, licking her lips in anticipation of the first sip.

"Yes."

"I - I don't want it," she said, her movements not matching her words. But, then she remembered the cleansing process she had the first time with her mom in a very similar hotel room to the one she was presently lying down in. No, there was nothing in the world that would want to make her to go through that hellish experience again. "No. Take it away."

She forced her hands to push the exquisite liquid away from her, as far as possible, and into the waiting hands of Wes.

"Oh will you just _drink it_? You need it to heal." He pushed his hand towards hers.

"_No_," she pushed back. "Not human."

"Fine. Be stubborn," he growled between gritted teeth. He vanished and almost instantaneously appeared with another mug. With inhuman grace, he sat down on the bed and handed her the glass. "**Drink**."

She put the cup under her nose and sniffed. Yep, the warm liquid was definitely of a different species. April gave Wes a slight smile and took a sip.

"Finally," he said, dramatically tossing his arms up in the air.

"Thank you," she muttered between sips.

"Don't thank me. That was leftovers from when Jesse was around."

At the mention of his name, they both became silent. It was the big elephant in the room. To one, he was a friend, a dear companion for many years. To the other, the line had been crossed between friends and also been completely, unceremoniously severed. And now, she had the distinct feeling that they felt like they were betraying him.

"Thank you," she muttered, eyes down to her cup. "You know…for saving me."

A finger lifted her chin and her eyes met his; the darkness of night had met the green of the forest. He removed the cup from her hands and set it on the nightstand. Wes' face moved closer and closer to her own, his lips grazed hers and she inhaled his smell. Oh, he did have a heavenly aroma. It was a deep, succulent, woodsy smell, with a little bit of a kick.

She didn't dare move or recreate the scenario developing in her head. If she were more brave, she would have grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to her.

Instead, she remained deathly still; her heart pounding in her chest as his breath chilled her lips.

"Wesley-"

Speaking his name did something to him that she didn't expect. He moaned and brought his mouth to hers, probing deeply with his tongue. Her own happily danced with his, savoring the taste of him. April moaned aloud and he moved himself over her, being careful not to put any pressure on her wound. His hands caressed her curves, not leaving out a single part of her body. When his hands reached her hipbone, she hitched a leg around his waist and hissed. She hadn't meant to pull that muscle. Within two seconds, Wesley was off of the bed completely, pacing in the middle of the room.

She'd never seen him so disheveled. He ran his fingers through his dark locks, his breathing erratic, his eyes shut. April smirked with a deep satisfaction that it was _she_ that did that to the big, bad vampire. Beauty had in fact conquered the beast.

After a few frantic, silent minutes of pacing, Wesley turned to her. His eyes would not meet hers as he looked down at her wound.

"You're healing fine now," he stated. "We should get you home."

He hurriedly left the room to pack up what little belongings he had brought into the hotel room from the car. She wanted to run after him and chuck the mug at his stupid head and scream at him. April wanted to beat it out of him. _What was fucking wrong with him?! And, what was so wrong with her that he broke their kiss…_

Tears formed in her eyes as the rejection set in.

* * *

Something was off.

They sat next to each other in awkward silence, her arms crossed protectively over her body, holding in the pain. It wasn't that her injuries were bothering her much, the hole in her ego was more painful. The dismissal she felt back in the hotel room lingered as he continued to make little or no contact with her in the car.

It was the hush that killed her. He barely even breathed next to her.

They were halfway home before his conceding sigh broke the stillness.

"Are you feeling alright," he asked, glancing over the passenger seat.

"Fine," she snapped, shifting her vision to the window.

"You're holding yourself as if you're in pain. Do you need any pain meds? We could stop at a drug -"

"_No._"

"Are you sure, April," he said, her name like honey dripping from his lips. That just made her more furious.

"I said _no_! Look, the blood helped and I'm healing! _OK_! _Jesus! _Just fucking drive! The faster I can get home, the better!"

His mouth dropped slightly at her angry tirade, but his eyes showed nothing but sadness. After all, he thought he was only trying to help. She wasn't going to be merciful.

She broke the question that had been on the tip of her tongue the entire ride home; she asked him why he broke their kiss. Instead of using words, he gunned the engine in response, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight.

"_Why_ did you break the kiss," she stubbornly repeated. This time, West sighed deeply and replied.

"I have my reasons."

"_Why_," she probed again, this time on the verge of tears.

Her question was answered with silence, but his body sat tensely beside her own. He was visibly upset and trying to quell his emotions, sucking them down into oblivion where no one would ever see them. He was sacrificing any emotional human side to his personality. But, for what?

She couldn't help herself as left palm caressed his right cheek, her slight warmth heating his chilled skin. Wes' eyes closed from her touch, a slight betraying smile playing on his lips. April beamed at the fact that he was actually enjoying it. All too quickly, he shied away, the grin replaced with a sneer.

"_Don't_," he scolded. He pulled the car over to the side of the road, put it in park and leaned his head against the headrest. "You know what you are," he smirked. "You remind me of a child that touches a burning pan on the stove. You know it's scorching and dangerous, and yet you handle it again."

"You're not dangerous."

"And you're not very observant."

"Is this - is this because of Jesse?" She noticed how the invisible tear in her chest wasn't as big when she said his name again. She wondered why...

"What," he smiled. "Oh, because he was with you first?" He chuckled deeply. "Jesse and I had been friends for a long time, April. There wasn't much left that we hadn't been through. Including girls." He flashed her an adorable smile. "but that's not what I'm interested in. I've told you before, I don't date anymore."

"Just hook ups."

"Well, I don't really refer to them as that, but you're correct."

"So...why not hook up with me?"

Wes turned to her and rolled his yes. "April Winchester, you don't learn, do you?"

"Fine, I won't push it anymore," she smiled shyly. It wasn't that she didn't want to push it. He had proven himself to her to be caring...he just wanted everyone else to know his badass persona. Sounded like someone else she knew.

"Look, April," he started with a heavy sigh, rotating towards her. "Did Jesse ever tell you how we met?"

"No."

"We were both soldiers during the Civil War and were both in the same Confederate regiment. That's how we met."

"Didn't know vampires fought in wars."

"There are many...spoils," he grinned devilishly. "Plus, I was young. I was nineteen and ready to leave the safety of our nest in Georgia. I wanted to go out and explore the world. Along the way, I joined up in the War and was surprised to find someone else in the fighting who had my 'condition'. It was our camaraderie that kept us together for oh, 140 years? We were friends. Sure, we fought about women, money, power, food," he smirked. "But, in the end, we could always come together. This time though…this time it's different."

She felt guilty. After so much time together and all their squabbles, it was she that had torn their alliance a sunder.

Wesley's head turned to view her own, his eyes smiling.

"Do you always blame yourself for everything?"

"Family trait," she grinned back.

"Well, just so you know, it wasn't all about you." Wes snapped his head back and already looked like he regretted divulging such information.

"Come on," he said, starting the car back up. "Let's get you home, kid."

This time the stillness wasn't as awkward. They'd steal glances at each other, grinning when their eyes found each other's before looking away. She smiled flirtatiously, her head leaning against the glass as she thought how bi-polar they were to each other. Indeed, when she was 'with' Jesse, she had hated Wesley, thinking he was an evil son-of-a-bitch who had tricked her. Since then, she had come to realize that he wasn't 'evil' by choice, or evil at all; he had to put up that front because of circumstances. Something in his past, something that had done him wrong, had done enough damage for several lifetimes. It was no matter if he wouldn't say it; he liked her…and she liked him.

"By the way," he started. "Nice move with your telekinesis. I'm glad you could push them off of you before I got there."

"Thanks," she beamed. "You know, I'm kinda confused though that they stabbed me and just…left. I mean, why the hell wouldn't they have just killed me? And why stab me in the _stomach_? They knew I was a vampire."

"I don't know," he said quickly. There was something in his answer that seemed odd. She was about to ask about his theories when he started in again. "I wish I had the ability that you have, the telekinesis."

She had forgotten that a while back, Jesse had mentioned that Wesley had "dangerous abilities." Hell, they were probably just as dangerous as her own.

"So, what can _you_ do," she asked.

"Pardon?"

"Your ability. What can _you _do?"

"It's…complicated. There's not many like me."

"Life's complicated. Just give me the gist of it."

"I can…absorb abilities of others. Well, mimic actually, only for a short period of time. It's a genetic trait."

She gave him a look that told him he was totally off his rocker. He laughed at her.

"Ok, for example, do you remember when I shook your father's hand today?"

"Yeah…"

"Why, do you think, a man who lives in a whole house full of vampires didn't sense that from me?"

The thought _had_ occurred to her. After all, her father was an avid hunter and slept next to a Lamia vamp every night. She remembered the panic that had erupted with in her as their hands touched and Wes' mysterious, reassuring wink.

"Well, I had human blood shortly before. When - when I have human blood, it makes my skin warmer to the touch and I breathe more regularly; I appear more _human_. Sure, my vampire grace and strength are there, but overall I appear more human. He felt a warmer hand than any other vampire's."

"Wait, wait, so you have to drink blood to mimic? So, if you drank mine?"

He snorted in disgust.

"If you drank mine, you'd be able to use my telekinesis?"

"Yes," he said between gritted teeth, obviously still disgusted at the idea of drinking from her. "And I'd get telepathy from your mother."

"Oh. Is it useful to have that?"

"Of course it's useful?! In a fight, it's almost imperative to have someone to do what I do! Not only do I get their ability, but it drains them of theirs for a short period of time. That could mean the crucial moments in the heat of battle."

"I see," she shied away, not wanting to anger him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to get loud. We're here anyway. I can already see your Dad's silhouette in the living room."

"Good ole' Dad," she smiled. He always stayed up for her when she was out late. She gathered her stuff in her bag from the back seat and made her way out of the car.

"April?"

"What," she said, peering back to the driver seat.

"Thank you for accompanying me tonight. You were helpful."

"Yeah, right," she huffed. "I suck."

"No, you were very graceful and superb, just like you said you would be."

_'God, I hope Mom isn't home,' _she thought. _'If she heard that outta context, that would be bad.'_

"Thanks. And thanks again for, you know." Again, another comment that could be taken totally wrong. She wondered if they'd be more mad at her for hunting with him or thinking she had sex?

"Hey, Wes," she started, leaning into the car. He smirked over at her, his dark eyes playful.

"Yes?"

"What was Jesse's ability?"

"Pssh, his was a pretty useless one," he grinned devilishly. "He had the ability to communicate in dreams."

Her heart turned cold and her whole body started to shake as the visions of her nightmares shot through her.

"April, are you - "

"I gotta go," she snapped, slamming the car door before running up the steps to her house.


	28. Mess

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

April rushed into the house, swiflty closing the door behind her as the car sped off into the distance. Her mind was trying to digest the information she had just received about the nightmares that had been plaguing her for a long time. In a odd way, she hadn't been dreaming, but _communicating _withsomeone. She felt somewhat violated by the nightly intrusion, knowing full-well that someone had been tampering with her thoughts. But why in the hell would Jesse do those things to her in her sleep?

"Hey kiddo," her dad's voice interrupted. "How was your date?" He playfully winked at her.

"Dad," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine. See, I'm not dead" She spun around with her arms out to her sides. "Now, you should go catch some Zs. Hey, where's Mom?"

"Out hunting…for grub. Hey, what happened to your jacket," Dean asked, rolling over to her to inspect it.

'_Crap,' _she thought. She had changed into something other than her blood soaked shirt at the hotel, but had forgotten about the jacket. It had been unzipped and open during the stabbing, but she knows some damage must have been done to it. Plus, after being dragged like a rag doll through the woods, there were probably tons of dried mud caked to the back. _Fudge. _

"Oh, I must've caught it on something," she said, trying to pull away, keeping her back to the wall. Her vision glanced at the mirror on the wall to her left. Crap. Her hair was a mess, leaves tangled in her dark locks. Add that to the the small tears in the fabric and the mud being reflected on the back of her jacket and it looked like she had been doing something lyin' down on the ground.

'_Sweet merciful crap.' _

"So," Dean cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest, his face turning red. "What's with the mud?"

'_Crap. Crap. Crap.' _

"I slipped when we were on a walk."

"I thought you were goin' to a movie?"

"We did."

"What did you see?"

"Oh, some crappy remark of a horror classic. You know how those are. It was like the third remake of _Friday the 13th_."

'_Good lie.' _

"So, you went for a walk before or after the movie? Because, all I know is, it was a late movie and then you were gonna come home?"

"We went afterward," she sighed. After all, how the hell was she gonna be able to explain sitting with mud all over her ass through a full-length film? She figured, she'd rather get into trouble for breaking curfew than hunting anyways. It wasn't that she wasn't allowed to hunt. Oh no. She could, but the rule was, only with a family member. That list included Mom, Uncle Sam, Uncle Bobby, Aunt Jo, Aunt Gwen, Aunt Lenore, and Aunt Ruby. That was a big list. Instead, she went against the order to help a friend. Although, friend seemed like such a cheap word.

A betraying smile crept across her lips.

"Hello? Earth to April? Am I talkin' to my frickin' self here?"

"Oh, sorry, Dad," she blushed. "Listen, I'm real tired, and I need to get to bed…"

_"Wait."_

Uh oh. She knew that tone in his voice. When Dean wanted to say something, you better believe you were gonna get an ear full.

She apprehensively turned towards her father again and noticed the look on his face. He was flushed, his face beat red, as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Dad, are you ok," she questioned, kneeling down beside his chair. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah," he said, not looking into her eyes. "It's just…"

"Yeah?"

"I knew a couple of girls who I 'dated' in high school who ended up with their clothes dirty too, April. That 'oops I just slipped' excuse doesn't work with me."

Her throat dropped to her stomach. _'Oh god, '_she thought, '_please, please not 'the talk.'_

"Oh, Dad," she nervously chuckled, "You don't have to worry about-"

"I'm your dad, so it's my job to worry," he smirked, taking her hand in his. "Look, you're a big girl and I'm not gonna tell you what to do, ok?"

"Ok," she said, trying not to be weirded out by what he was probably going to say.

"All I'm gonna say is be careful - "

"Dad, I haven't done -"

"I don't care if you have or not," his eyes clearly showing that he thought she did. After all, her current disheveled appearance pointed to some sort of rolling around. "And I'm not gonna go on and on about being safe _that_ way. You're a smart girl, and they've been explaining that crap to you in school since sixth grade. I just- when I was in high school, I had a lot of girlfriends. You know, just like flings. Didn't give a damn about most of them. And, I know they probably felt like crap later on. But, I didn't care…or tried not to. Look, there have only been a few girls in my life I truly cared about, and only one I fell for completely. I happen to be married to her."

He smiled at his daughter, but the sparkle he used to have in his eye whenever he spoke about his wife was absent. It twisted April's stomach.

"Anyways, what I'm tryin' to get out is - don't date a guy like me, April. Don't date someone who doesn't give a damn about you, ok? That's what I was, and I'll be damned if you get treated that way."

"Daddy, I can handle myself," she reassured, squeezing his hand.

"I have no doubt that you can, kid," he patted her back and kissed her cheek. "You should probably get upstairs to bed. It's late."

"Alright, Daddy," she said, stretching with a yawn as she stood up to make her way to her bedroom. As she reached the foot of the stairs, she pivoted around at the wooden banister. "Are you going to bed soon too?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I'm gonna wait up for your Mom for a little while first."

* * *

She had strenuously raced through a few sets of woods, finally seeing a clearing witha house, and let out a relieved sigh. Abby was glad she had checked a satellite map of the area on Google before she set out. Sure, she knew the way to drive there, but Dean thought she was hunting. It wasn't really a lie; she had taken down a coyote on the way. But she had to go on foot to make it less suspicious.

Her body tensed as she effortlessly sprinted through the trees, the single, tall trunks becoming one as she blurred on by.

The clearing became closer and closer, until she was standing on a well manicured lawn, only a few steps from a driveway. The cars were parked neatly beside each other.

Good, they were home.

Abby didn't want to be rude and just knock on the door after midnight but she needed someone to talk to. Someone who could provide a little soul-searching insight.

She fished through the pockets of her jeans for her cellphone and found his number in the contacts.

Her vampire hearing could pick up on his own phone vibrating in the house.

"Hello," his sleepy voice answered.

"Cas, it's Abby."

"Hello, Abigail." She heard him shuffle in bed and it was quite obvious that she had disturbed his slumber.

"I - I need to talk to someone and I would talk to Sam but he's kinda involved in all this. I - I just need some kinda spiritual advice, and you're the best person for that," she chuckled, trying to hold back her tears. She noticed she'd been doing that a lot recently.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure I'm the best person for that job," he warmly chortled.

"Please, Castiel. I'm begging you."

"No need to beg. I'll be right down."

* * *

April slipped into her nightgown and closed her grandma's journal on her desk.

She looked down at the symbol she had copied from the book with a marker on her hand.

It matched perfectly. She just hoped it worked.

She slipped into her bed, drawing the covers up around herself. Her eyes slid closed and she didn't ready herself for sleep, but for a confrontation.


	29. On Through The Night

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"How did you know I was outside," Abby mused as Cas gave her a warm hug.

"I would say something mystical like 'you still have an aura about you,' but truthfully you speak a bit loudly on the phone when you're upset. I could hear you from inside the house," he softly laughed.

"God, you're so human now," she squeezed him.

"Let's go inside," he said, breaking their hug and gently leading her towards the house with a hand on her lower back.

She glanced up at him with a smile. It was hard for her to be in a bad mood around Cas, but even his presence didn't seem to lift her spirit. However, he always made it quite clear that he was always going to be there with a shoulder to lean on. That's just who he was, angel or not.

He had left with Sam at her wedding and she never really knew where they went. She had sensed from Sam that he was on a more spiritual journey than up for a hunting at the time. All she knew was they were gone for months doing _something_, and when they returned, Sam seemed lighter. It was as if he had purged some of his internal burden on the trip. True, he still a lot to muddle through, but it was a positive gain. It was a new start for himself and his family.

Castiel had come back more humanized in every sense of the word. Any flicker of his angelic image had disappeared. He was warmer, less controlled and seemed quite happy. On their trip, he had, much to Sam's chagrin, developed a love for classic rock. He listened to everywhere and was obsessed with his new MP3 player. Cas had also come to love the worldly pleasures of good food. Apparently, French fries were one of his new passions. He had to try every kind on the road: regular, seasoned, waffled, crinkled, tater tots, sweet potato - if a place had French fries, that's where they'd eat. She found it rather cute that both he and Ruby had the same obsession. It was apparently a food that extended the olive branch across the other world.

Speaking of cute, she also found his relationship with Gwen quite adorable. She could tell there was something even a the very beginning, after her friend had kissed his cheek on that fateful night that had saved the world from damnation. Granted, they hadn't quite come out into public to announce their feelings to the world, but each had confided as much to Abby separately. In fact, Gwen had moved out of the nest during a mission and never moved back into Lenore's house. When she looked for a place, Cas had extended the invitation to her to live with him...in a separate room of course. He still had his own, burned in sense, of right and wrong. Old habits were apparently hard to break.

"Coffee," he offered, with a deliciously steaming pot already on hand. He had seemingly set it up before he went out to greet her. She sat down in his living room as he poured her a cup, offering it to her.

"Thanks," she muttered before taking a sip.

"So," Cas started, taking a seat next to her. "What brings you to my door at such an ungodly hour?"

She sighed, leaning back into the couch, hoping and praying that it would just swallow her up.

"Abigail, how's Dean," he asked with concern.

Should she tell him what she thought was going on? Was it right to divulge such information of her family even to a friend? She had to tell someone, and it had to be someone she trusted. It had to be someone that wasn't sucked into the depths of the situation already.

With a heavy sigh, she began her tale of woe. Cas listened to her every word, his brows furrowing at the extent of her family's decline. She told him everything about Dean, April, Dylan, hell even Sam, Ruby and Jamie. Her voice became tighter as she got to the latest news she received.

"Dylan told me this Nurse, and I use the word lightly now, has been giving him pills. He's supposed to be off of them."

"Have you confronted Dean or this Nurse about this?"

"I approached Hannah when she brought Dean home from physical therapy. He was in the kitchen eating so he didn't hear a word. She said they were vitamins and some supplement for flexibility and bone growth."

"Do you believe her?"

"No."

"So why not approach Dean," he asked, appearing sad that his friends were having such trouble.

"I - I can't. He can get too irritable and upset now. It seems like - like he'd just use it as an excuse to push me farther away."

Cas grabbed onto her hand and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"Go on," he lightly pushed.

"I don't know where to go - "

"Well, how about this. You explained what's going on, but how are _you_ feeling?"

"What I feel doesn't matter."

"Abigail, you may be the glue that holds your family together, but what happens when the glue crumbles?"

He did have a valid point there.

"So, please," he said, his eyes sympathetic and soft. "I won't judge you. Let me know what's going on in that complicated mind of yours."

She inhaled deeply before continuing.

"I feel - lost," she admitted, searching his eyes for criticism. She saw nothing but support. "I feel weighted down by despair. It's like I'm trapped in a cave that's just collapsing around me and I can't get out no matter how hard I try. And I can't fix _anything_. I can't heal Dean. I can't help Dylan. I can't even keep track of April. And I feel like I'm neglecting Jamie. I can't do anything right anymore, Cas."

He did not offer any empty words of support but continued to listen. Cas knew her too well. The old 'it'll be alright,' thing got old fast.

"Cas, I just don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm losing myself, and every time, it's just harder and harder not to -"

"To what, Abby?"

"To give in to my nature…and that was scares the crap out of me. Before - before I would never do it because of my children and my husband, but now…it just seems…pointless. I know that's horrible to say. But when I - feed - everything I'm feeling just comes out of me. It makes me feel, dare I say, better."

"Abigail, I'm not sure if I'm the best person to help you, as I - I have never been in your position to help you. Sure, eleven years as human has changed me, but, I have never encountered something as distressing as this so close. All I know is that, from my experience, love and trust is the greatest way to heal."

"And what if that trust is gone, Cas?"

"What has Dean done to you that has hurt you so much," he took her other hand.

"He wants me gone."

"No. I know for a fact Dean loves you. When he was in Hell, you were on his mind. Did you know that? But he had to stop thinking about you so much because the demons were using it against him."

"I know."

"Abby, Dean wouldn't push you away."

"Well, if that isn't his intention, he's doing a damn good job of subconsciously doing it. Cas…he's been confiding his feelings with another woman and not with me."

"Pardon?"

"I just thought this nurse was, I don't know, being kind and a caretaker. But Dean…he gets this huge smile on his face when he sees her…a smile like he used to get when he'd look at me. They talk for hours, and she even comes over and stays later than she's supposed to, because Dean _wants_ her there."

Abby thought it was funny that she was jealous of the young _girl_. The ironic thing was, sure she was pretty, but it was the emotional connection that she severed to her husband that she craved. Dean and Abby had once been so close that they could finish each other's sentences. But now, now it was like they were strangers renting out the same room in a house.

"I don't know what it is about her, Cas. But, something's going on."

"You need to talk to Dean, Abigail. I sincerely feel that once you voice these concerns, he will understand that you're hurt."

She wiped the fallen tears from her face and gripped her friend's hand tighter.

"Thanks for listening. I'm sorry I had to unload everything onto you."

"Not at all," he smiled. "In fact, could I ask you something?"

"Of course. Anything Cas," she smiled.

He looked away, with an embarrassed grin on his lips, his face turning red.

"It's about Gwen, huh," Abby whispered so only he could hear.

"Yes," he smirked. "I'm having - feelings about her that I haven't had since, since never really. I thought I cared about someone once before, when I was -"

"When you had the halo," she smiled.

"Yes. But this, it's different."

"Put on another pot of coffee, my friend," she giggled, patting his back lightly. "I'm all ears."

* * *

Dean stayed up late into the night, waiting for his wife to come home. He was more than worried. He didn't have to be psychic to pick up on her mood lately. It was as if a dark cloud had been over the house with a storm brewing ahead. So far, no sign of rain. That had to be good…_right?_

"You shouldn't be up."

He whirled around, startled at the voice in his house.

"Jesus, you scared me," he scolded, putting a hand to his chest, his heart pounding like a jackhammer.

"Sorry," she apologized, biting her lower lip. Hannah stood by the back door in the kitchen, dressed as if she were headin' out to a club or something. The teal of her dress complimented her tanned skin and sunny blonde hair, and those heels made her legs go on and on and…

He stopped his train of thought dead in its tracks. What the hell was going on with him? She was only twenty something, a few years older than his own daughter for Christ's sake. Over the years, he'd seen hot chicks pass him by, but not one was hotter than his wife in his eyes. _And now, what the fuck was going on?_

She smiled at him, twisting her necklace between her thumb and forefinger.

Something happened as he watched her. It was as if - as if they were the only two people on the planet. Well, weren't they? No, something deep down reminded. _Remember who you are, Dean._

She continued to twirl her pendant, a habit he figured she did when she was nervous. After all, she did it quite frequently around him.

"Sorry," she finally said. "I forgot my purse here earlier when I dropped you off from therapy." She leaned down next to the kitchen table, grabbing the brown suede bag by the handle.

"Not a problem," Dean replied. "Look, Hannah, I'm sorry if Abby shook you down today. She's a little overprotective of me."

"Oh, no. Not a problem, Dean. I just wish she knew that my intentions towards you are only for the best, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you," she asked, her eyebrow slightly raised, twisting the glinting silver between her fingers once more.

"Yes." That's the only answer that popped in his head. After all, she had been there for him all throughout his ordeal. She didn't push him to be better. She didn't sulk around him. Hannah acted _normal_, which was all he wanted in his own home. That was what he craved. So, they talked as friends about everyday things. Then one day, he started to open up to her about his life, his passions, his marriage. After that, nothing was sacred enough to hold back from her. She was a confidant and he gladly listened to her life stories in return.

"Listen, before I go, can I help you get ready for bed," she asked.

He knew there was something that he was supposed to be doing. In fact, he was doin' it right before Hannah showed up…but he couldn't quite remember why he had been sitting in the living room watching the window.

Dean's mind was drawing a complete blank except for Hannah. She gestured for him to follow her into his bedroom.

* * *

April remembered the scene quite well. She was at the tree under a gorgeous, star-filled sky. It was the perfect night for lovers, but she wasn't going to be taken in with the romanticism of the place again. She leaned against the tree in her nightgown, tensely waiting for his arrival.

"April," he said, as he stepped out of the shadows towards her.

"You," she pointed. "_You_ stay back. Not one step closer."

"April, please," he seemed to beg as he stood in his spot.

"I mean it. You know that whole legend about if you die in your dream you die in real life? Well, it used to be true…and I figured out how to do it. Jesse, if you try to hurt me, I'll rip your fucking head off."

Her words seemed to wound him deeply as he clutched at his chest, his eyes widening with sadness and grief.

"Oh, April, why did I let them do that to me?"

"What," she asked. _Concentrate, April. Don't let him pull you deeper into his bullshit._His eyes would not meet her as he started to pace, his hand running through his blonde hair.

"What's going on," she demanded with authority. "Why the hell were you trying to kill me?"

"I wasn't trying to kill you, sweet girl," he struggled, raising his blue eyes to hers. "Please believe that much."

"Than what's going on?!"

"I can't tell you!"

"Why not," she cried, grabbing some bark clear off of the trunk.

"I don't want you to get hurt! Don't you understand?!"

"If you didn't want me to get hurt, than why did you leave?!"

"Some pains are better to experience than others," he whispered.

"Jesse," she said, "Look at me."

He raised his head up, his eyes filled to the brim with pain and remorse.

"Jesse, why are you doing this to me," April demanded.

"Doing what? _You_ were the one who summoned _me_ here, not the other way around!"

"You were torturing me in my dreams, _asshole_! What do you mean, doing what?!"

He shook his head from side to side, a horrible choked sound coming from his throat.

"Oh, god, April - what has he done to you?"

"What?"

"I admit, the first time, that was me, but I had no other choice!"

"What do you mean no other choice?!"

"There's things that you don't know about - that I can't tell you about. I'm mixed up in something I don't want to be involved in anymore. That's why I left. I thought it would better if I was out of the picture; I couldn't stand being manipulated anymore. But, April, I swear to you on all that's holy, I only invaded your dreams that one time. The one where I apologized at the end. I didn't want to do it. Damn, I practically violated your mind! I hate myself for what I did!"

"Well, if _you _stopped doing it…then who had been fucking with my head?"

"Stay away from, Wesley, April. Please, please promise me that," he begged.

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks, weighting down her chest. She felt a new hole being ripped through her being. His words seemed to haunt her from that night:

"_I can…absorb abilities of others. Well, mimic actually, only for a short period of time. It's a genetic trait."_She grasped at the concept and couldn't believe it. No, not after he had saved her from the other vampires. But, they didn't kill her, even when they were given the chance. Was he even there to protect her or to make it look that way?

April gulped down the betrayal, swallowing it down, feeling her chest expand.

"Jesse," she pleaded. "before you left, did Wesley attack you?"

His eyes met her own and he wordlessly responded with a nod.

The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Wesley had taken Jesse's blood from him, forcing it out of him, in order to afflict her in the realm of sleep. _But why?_

Before she could gather the answer, Jesse's eyes widened in fear.

"We have to go," he said, a edge of terror in his voice. "You have to make yourself wake up, April! _Now_!"

"Jesse, don't go. I need to know -"

"All you need to know is this; _stay away from Wes_. He's dangerous. April, please take care of yourself." He ran to her then and held her tight, giving her a squeeze before running back.

"Will I see you again," she yelled to him as he faded out into the shadows of the mist.

"Don't worry about me! Just please wake up, sweetheart," he begged.

That's when she felt it; eyes on her back. Something or someone was watching her.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. _

She repeated this over and over as the being ran towards her, getting closer in closer by the instant. As it was about to grab her, she shot up in bed with a scream.

Her sheets were drenched in sweat, her comforter thrown across the room. But, overall, she was alright. She glanced down at the symbol on her arm; a symbol of summoning and protection molded into one. It had worked.


	30. The Judas Kiss

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"Shh," she hushed him, pulling his face to hers as she crawled over him. "Be quiet. I don't wanna wake up my parents." She smiled against his lips as she laid her body on top of his own.

"Beck, seriously," he whispered, pulling her face back to look at her. "Are you crazy?! If your mom and dad catch you -"

"They won't if _you_ stay quiet," she smirked before crashing her lips to his once more. Dylan had to think of a good way to break it to her; he didn't feel comfortable doing what she wanted to do in her own house. However, the way her body pressed against his own, her arms wrapping around his neck…he couldn't help but reciprocate. His fingers tangled in her wavy brown hair, pushing her closer to him. His hands skimmed the curves of her body as she sighed happily into his mouth.

He didn't realize how beautiful or exquisite the female body was until he was feeling it with his eyes closed. Every part of her skin was beyond perfection.

Without thinking, he snaked his hand up the back of her thigh under her nightgown…and was quite surprised to find she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"You little devil," he smiled up at her. "You were planning to do this weren't you?"

She winked down at him.

"I'm just using my power of seduction. Is it working?"

_'A little too well,' _he thought, as he ground his hips into her own.

They were just starting to get hot and heavy when a horrible sense of urgency pressed upon him. _Something was going to happen._ He didn't know how he knew, but something deep in him screamed emergency. He had to get home.

"Dyl, Dyl what's wrong," Becky said, sitting up in the bed across from him, her eyes full of worry.

"I - I gotta get home," he said, scrambling for his regular clothes.

"Did I - "

"Oh, no. No, sweetie, this isn't because of you," he moved back towards her, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. "It's just…do you ever get the feeling like something bad is gonna happen?"

She shrugged. "Why, you think something bad is gonna happen, Dyl?"

"I don't know. I just gotta get home, ok? I'll be back later."

He was about to walk out of the guest bedroom door when she said the words that made his heart skip.

"Hurry back. I love you."

She _loved_ him. He thought his heart would do somersaults. Hell, he'd do cartwheels down the hall if he wasn't afraid of waking her folks.

He turned around and flashed her a devastating smile, knowing by the delightful shiver that ran through her body that it did its job.

"And I love you."

With a swelling of love and pride, he turned around and headed back to his family, unsure of what he'd find.

* * *

"I got it," Dean grunted as he lifted himself out of his chair and onto his bed.

Hannah rolled his chair next to the bed near the bottom and took a seat on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Comfy," she asked, pulling the blanket over him.

"Yeah, except I shoulda changed outta my jeans," he smirked.

"Oh, allow me," she replied, pulling the covers down to his feet.

"Hey, woah, woah, I can handle it," he laughed.

"Dean, I'm a nurse. Let me do my job," she winked, tugging the jeans off his legs. She sure was taking her sweet ass time removing them, he chuckled to himself.

Dean stared down at his useless legs in disgust. They were crap. They were good for nothin'.

"Are you ok," she asked, a slight smile on her face.

"No, I'm not," he stated matter-of-factly. "I'm a cripple, Han."

"What if," she started, playing with her jewelry again. "What if you didn't have to be, Dean?"

"Say that again?"

"What if," she said, crawling up onto the bed, placing herself precariously over his waist.

"Hey, hey, what are you doin', Hannah?"

"I'm just gonna give you a massage, silly," she smiled. She scooted down his body until she was straddling his knees, her dress riding up revealing all of her legs. Her pink panties peaked out from under her dress.

Dean couldn't feel her hands going over his legs. In fact, he could only tell she was doing anything only if he looked down. She said that he had to maintain blood flow down there to heal. Fair enough.

"As I was saying before, _Dean_," she said his name seductively, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "What if-"

"What if _what_?"

"What if you could walk again?"

"Isn't that the whole point of therapy," he smirked.

"No, no…I meant, what if you could walk tonight - - right now."

"Huh?"

"Let's say," she said, sitting up higher over him, twisting her necklace. "What if I could give you that right now?"

"Ha. Ha. Not funny," he chuckled.

"I'm not joking, Dean," she smiled.

"Then you've gone Fruit Loops."

"I care about you, Dean. Maybe I'm the only one who really does care, who can help you."

"You keep telling yourself that. Now, get off of me," he demanded, becoming frustrated with her teasing.

"I mean it, Dean," she said as she scooted off the bed. "I care about you and I want you to be able to walk."

She stroked his leg, twisting the pendant in hand, mumbling something incoherent. Then, for an instant, his leg twitched. He could _feel_it move.

"What the hell," he asked with surprise, looking up at her for an answer.

"Dean, I care about you. I want you to be happy. I want to _make_ you happy."

She twirled the silver in one hand while she rubbed his right leg with the other. And that's when he felt it, the warm, tingling sensation of feeling. _Total feeling._

"Hannah," he whispered in disbelief, the escaping tears stinging his eyes.

She just smiled sweetly and propped herself up over him again, this time rubbing both legs. He could feel her fingers grazing his skin, lovingly kneading the once unused flesh. He wanted her to keep touching him, to keep pressing. He relished in the way her fingers playfully caressed his legs.

Her hands skimmed up his thighs and over his hips and then he could feel - everything. It seemed that was when he noticed how sexy she looked.

Overwhelmed with feeling and emotion, he sat up on his knees for the first time in months, and took her in his arms. She crashed her lips against his, winding her fingers in his hair, tugging just enough. He moaned happily in her mouth, flipping her over and lowering himself on top of her.

Her hands greedily ripped off his shirt as his fingers found the back of her dress and snagged down the zipper. She flipped their positions, placing him on his back again. She ripped off his pants before she slid her panties out from underneath her dress.

His mind couldn't think of anything else but her and the feeling of her body against his; his _whole_ body. She made him work again. She made him useful.

Hannah rubbed his length between her fingers and it didn't take long for him to reach full potential.

"I care about you so much, Dean. Only me," she murmured, twirling her pendant again.

He believed her. His mind was swimming with her, only her and the pleasure her hands caused racing through his body.

"Oh, god Hannah," he moaned as her hand moved faster.

"Say it, Dean. Say you need only me."

As if in a trance, he repeated her request.

"I need only you."

He squeezed his eyes shut as she continued her torture, stroking him feverishly before placing him fully in her mouth.

The sharp sound of snapping wood sounded from the other side of the bedroom and his eyes snapped open.

"Abby…"

* * *

She stood in the doorway, watching the whore pleasure her husband while he did nothing to stop her. Had he been lying to her all along about feeling down there? He obviously could get it up now. Perhaps he just wanted to be with the nurse the whole time.

Abby had come home, ready to talk with her husband and come to an accord. After speaking with Cas, she realized her love for him was infinite. It was unbreakable. They'd work through everything he was going through together.

And there she stood, watching her husband moan in pleasure from some other woman's hand on him. Her hand gripped the dresser nearest to the door as she remained silent.

"Oh, god Hannah," he moaned as her hand moved faster.

"Say it, Dean. Say you need only me."

He repeated her request.

"I need only you."

Her eyes widened and she snapped. Abby's hand squeezed the edge of the dresser, tearing off a corner chunk of the antique wood.

"Abby…"

She just growled in response. Something terribly frightening took over her body. Abby shook from somewhere deep inside, her body trembling with anger and betrayal. Tears escaped the corner of eyes and she could swear she heard her heart shatter into a million pieces at once.

His eyes looked down at the girl on top of him as if it were the first time he had actually seen her.

"_What the hell are you doing?!_ **Get out**," he spat, pushing her off of him.

"_Hey_," she hissed in protest as Dean threw her off the bed, throwing her panties in her face.

"I said, **GET OUT**!"

"What about all those things you promised? You said you knew I cared about you," Hannah wailed.

Dean looked at her as if she had lost her fucking mind. He declared that he never said those things. Abby searched his mind and she could not find a clear answer.

"_Fine_," Hannah snickered, picking up her things and walking towards the door. She stood in front Abby with an arrogant grin plastered across her face. "Let me pass."

Abby blocked her way, summoning all the strength she had inside her to not kill the young woman. She growled at her, her canines seemingly lengthening on their own. Promises or not, the primal part of her was taking over.

She grabbed the girl by the throat with one hand and pushed her up against a wall. Hannah twisted and screamed in her grasp as Abby held her up, snarling and bearing her fangs.

"Abby, put her down."

_'Don't pay attention to him,'_ her mind snarled. _'Kill her. The little homewrecker deserves hellfire.'_

"Abby. **Put. Her. Down**."

"You are in no position to ask anything of me," Abby hissed back at Dean, keeping her eyes on the struggling girl. She felt a deep satisfaction knowing that she could snap the blonde's neck without a moment of hesitation, feeling her go limp in her hands. After all, screwing with a vampire's husband made her life forfeit in her opinion. "She doesn't deserve my mercy."

"You're not a killer. Let her go..._please_," Dean pleaded.

Her dark eyes, as black as midnight, met the terrified girl's. Alright, she'd give her a head start. Seemed like it could be a fun game anyway. It would be better to hunt her than to kill her so easily in the house. _'Let her get lost in the woods,' _she mused. _'Break her apart little by little. By the time you're done, she'll be begging you to end her suffering.'_

Her hand released it's death grip, dropping her four feet from above on her ass onto the wood floor. The frightened girl scrambled to her feet and raced for the door. Before she left, she spun around with tears in her eyes, violently grasping at her medallion.

"You and your stupid bitch! You'll regret this, Dean! Oh, just you wait!" she screamed between inapporiate giggles before racing out of the house.

She stood motionless, facing the wall she had held the girl up against.

"Abby - " She snarled in response.

"Abby...babe, please look at me," Dean begged. "Please...I need to know you're ok - "

"**Ok?! You want to know if I'm OK?!"**

She spun around and was inches from him instantaneously.

"How DARE you ask me if I'm OK! I just walked into MY bedroom to find MY husband screwing his nurse that I paid for! _Are you for real?!_"

"Abby I can - "

"I you say that you can explain you might as well save your breath, Winchester."

"I don't even remember what happened. All I know is that she showed up and said she forgot her purse or something," he said, apparently searching for an excuse. "And then, the next thing I know...I - I could feel my legs. I could actually feel my legs and I was just so happy - "

"That you thought humping the nurse was a _good idea_?"

"Abby, please listen to me," Dean begged on the verge of tears.

"I will not listen to you!"

"Then do your Jedi mind trick; if you look through my mind you'll see that I'm not lyin' -"

"I don't want to be anywhere near you or your mind right now," she shrieked, the tears streaming down her face.

"Please, babe, _please_ talk to me. We can work this out - "

"No, _we can't_, Dean," she cried. "I - I was wrong. I thought we could work through anything..._but this?!_ THIS I _can't _work through."

"Oh, God, please," he begged, choking on his sobs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"You're just sorry you got caught!"

"No! No, I didn't know what I was doing! Oh, don't, Abby."

She spun around on her heel and walked out the door.

"Don't bother calling. I won't pick up."

"_Abby_._ I LOVE YOU_. _PLEASE!"_

_'I love you too,' _she thought, a gasping sob escaping from her chest.

With that, she headed for the front door, passing her daughter on her way down the hall.

"Mom," April asked in her nightgown. "What's going on?! I heard screaming and crying -"

"I have to go for a while," she explained quickly in between sobs, taking her daughter in her arms. "I love you, April. Tell your brothers that I love them. Stay at Uncle Sammy's if you need to. I'll give him a call on my way -"

"Mom," she interrupted, "Mom what are you saying?"

"I'll have my phone on me. Call me soon, ok? I'll let you know where I'm at. I love you."

"ABBY! ABBY! WAIT," Dean screamed in desperation.

"Take care of your Daddy, ok," she asked, covering her eyes as she ran the door. "He loves you and no matter what's going on between us, he's your dad. OK?!"

"Mom! _Mom!"_

Abby ran as fast as she could, thinking about all she was leaving behind. At the time, she just needed to get out, before she really, really hurt someone.  
She raced to the garage and pulled the cover off of her Porsche, the one she had bought to replace the one destroyed during the hurricane in St. Augustine years before. The night she had told Dean about the twins....

"I gotta get outta here," she wept, putting the keys into the ignition and heading away from home at 100 miles per hour.

* * *

_"MOM!"_

She stood in the front entry, watching her mom zip away erratically in her sports car just as her brother pulled into the driveway.

"What's going on, April," he asked on his way up the front stairs.

"I - I don't know," she scrambled, searching his eyes for something she didn't know. "Mom's gone."

"Gone?"

"She left...and told me to tell you she loves you and Jamie...and told me to take care of Dad," she scrambled through the words.

"Ok, calm down," he said, making her focus. "What happened?"

"I - I woke up to screaming and crying, and Mom was in super vamp mode."

His eyes stared at her with deadly seriousness.

"What does that mean, April? Did she hurt Dad?" He glanced past her towards his room, they could both hear their dad crying and swearing.

"I don't think so, Dyl. Her canines were down but - she was - I never have seen her so fucking upset," April said, almost on the verge of tears herself.

A huge thud startled both of them and they ran to their parent's bedroom.

"God damn it," Dean swore on the ground, crawling up into his chair. "They - they don't work anymore!!"

"What," April questioned as she and Dylan helped him up into his chair.

"MY LEGS! They were working," he yelled, hitting them in frustration. "I have to go after her. I have to get her back."  
Dean used his arms to gain momentum and made his way to the front door. He screeched to a halt, staring down at the steps, along with the tracks of rubber from Abby's speeding car.

"Dad," April said, wheeling him around to face her. Her father wouldn't meet her eyes. He just swore over and over to himself, tugging at his hair, and she really thought he was having a mental breakdown. "Daddy," she asked again soothingly, squatting down beside his chair.

"I'm gonna check on Jamie," Dylan mouthed to her. She nodded to him over Dean's shoulder in reply.

"Daddy, what happened?"

His green eyes rimmed with bright red finally met hers and it hit her like a ton bricks. Whatever was going on, it was bad. The worst they'd seen. She'd never, ever seen her dad so scared.

"I fucked up, April. I'm sorry...I fucked up," he sobbed, putting his head into his hands. She immediately wrapped her arms around her father trying her best to comfort him, but he seemed inconsolable.

She rubbed her father's shoulders as his cries calmed down and stopped. When he finally raised his head, something about his gaze rocked her to her soul. His eyes were vacant. The emotion he had been displaying completely gone and replaced with one of emptiness. It froze her to the very core.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ok, I know that was angsty. Sorry. But I promise you, this is very important to the storyline over the next chapters and next book. Yes I plan on two more 'books' with these characters. We're almost to the end of this story! Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews!


	31. Why Me

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"I got Dylan's phone message. What's going on," Sam said as he roughly closed the door behind him.

His trembling niece jumped into his arms. He wrapped her up, rubbing her back gently to comfort her. She was inconsolable.

"April," he whispered, kissing her temple. "Tell me what's wrong, hun."

She looked up at him with sad eyes and told him all she knew. Abby was gone and Dean was devastated, and he wouldn't give her any details of what had transpired before she got up.

"I - I know it's bad, Sam," she sobbed, soaking his shirt. "He won't talk about it. He just keeps sayin' that it's his fault."

"Ok, ok," he soothed. "I'll go find out what's wrong. Where are your brothers?"

"Hi, Sam," Dylan said as plodded down the stairs with his hands in his pockets. "I just checked on Jamie. He's sleeping."

"Ok. Ruby's in the car. I think it'll be best if we take Jamie to our house for a little while."

April nodded in accord.

"Yeah," she started. "I think it'll be better for him."

Sam nodded, poking himself out of the front door and motioned for Ruby to come into the house. Ruby greeted her niece and nephew and headed up the stairs to fetch the youngest. She reappeared a few minutes later, a drowsy Jamie by her side still in his pajamas.

"Where are we goin," he yawned up to Ruby.

"We're gonna have a sleepover, kiddo," she tried to sound positive, playfully ruffling his hair. He smiled up at her as she escorted him to the front door.

"Be careful and good luck," she whispered to Sam, standing on her toes to kiss him. "Let me know if you need me at all, ok?"

"I will," he smiled at his wife. "Just take care of Jamie for me?"

She nodded, waving goodbye to the other kids, before heading back out to the car.

"Stay here. I'm gonna go talk to Dean, ok?"

The kids bobbed their heads, taking seats on stairs in the entryway.

Sam cautiously headed back to the kitchen and saw his brother sitting at the kitchen table, his head propped up on a bent arm, a beer in his other hand. He was staring off into space, his eyes not really focusing. Dean was stoic and still, but he couldn't hide the purple and red rimming his eyes. He had been crying.

"Dean -"

"Sam."

"Are you-"

"If you ask if I'm ok, I'm gonna hit you in the nuts."

"I wasn't going to ask that. I was gonna ask if you're drunk," Sam smirked, taking a seat across from him at the kitchen table.

"Not yet," Dean chuckled. "But soon, don't worry about that. Grab one and join me."

Sam went to the fridge and grabbed himself a brew, taking it back to the table to join his brother.

"You know, you're the only one around here actin' normal," Dean weakly smirked. "April's acting I'm gonna hurt myself."

"I know you wouldn't," Sam admitted.

Dean replied with a half-assed nod.

"Dean, what happened?"

"Abby's gone."

"She'll come back," Sam reassured.

"No-pe," he said, "Not this time, Sam. I fucked up royally."

"What happened?"

Dean put his head in his hands and told Sam all he could remember. He recalled Hannah coming over dressed kinda trampy and the next thing he clearly remembered was feeling his legs and Abby finding the girl straddling him. He was literally caught with his pants down.

"But I swear I DON'T REMEMBER how I got that way, Sammy. I - I don't _remember_ and it's _killing_ me that I let that bitch do those - ." His voice trailed off.

"Ok, Dean. I believeyou," Sam said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You do?"

"Yeah. You wouldn't lie about that. You care about-"

"I _love_ Abby. She's - god it's so fucking corny, but she's _everything_, Sam. And, because of these broken pieces of crap, I let her run out."

"Well, if it's any conciliation, she could have zipped away at vampire speed and ditched you anyway," Sam joked, trying his best to lift his brother's spirit.

"True. Go-go gadget vamp legs," Dean smirked, chugging down the rest of his beer before reaching for the next one.

"So, you have no recollection of it?"

"It's in and out. Real foggy."

"Ok. Listen, I'm gonna talk to the kids for a minute. I'll be back," Sam said, sketching as he rose out of the chair.

Sam walked from the kitchen back towards the entry, finding the twins still in their positions on the stairs. They were curled up like they used to on Christmas mornings when they were little, waiting patiently for Dean to give the ok to run into the other room and ravage their gifts. But now, their faces weren't filled with excitement; they were terrified and lost. April's in particular, was filled with disgust.

"Don't worry, _I know_," she spat. "I could hear everything he did. You don't have to fill me in."

"She told me," Dylan said.

"How could he do that," April stated with vehemence.

"He can't remember, April," Sam said, taking a seat beside her.

"Doesn't matter, Sam. _Mom_...god I feel so bad for her."

"Well, Dad's not having a picnic either," Dylan reminded her.

"Listen," Sam started. "I think there might be something going on since Dean can't remember. Have you guys witnessed anything weird lately?"

They both looked at each other and shrugged.

"Hey," April said, looking up curiously at her brother. "What made you rush over here from Beck's?"

Dylan recalled the strange feeling he had experienced while at his girlfriend's, explaining that his mind had kept repeating a need to go back home. He somehow knew something was going to happen.

"I guess it's because I've started using my abilities again on occasion," he smirked. "I got here right as Mom was driving away."

"Hmm," Sam mused.

"What are you thinking," April asked.

"Doesn't it just seem weird? Memory lapses. Dylan's psychic alarm going off..."

"You think it was something supernatural," Dylan responded and Sam nodded in reply.

"Have you guys noticed anything weird at all? Out of the ordinary?"

"Well," Dylan started. "I just told Mom about something I saw earlier today."

"What about..."

Dylan told Sam about a curious scene in the kitchen involving flirtation and pills. He also explained that Abby had seemed interested at the news and was planning on getting an explanation from the nurse that evening.

"I was at Beck's all night so I don't know how that panned out. But, do you think it was the pills?"

"That, or..."

"Or?"

"I don't know, there could be something else. Tell me anything that seemed off-"

"Besides her being a total whore," April added. "I don't know. She had terrible fashion sense?"

"Fashion sense," Dylan started, seemingly speaking the words to himself. "Her necklace."

"Necklace," Sam probed.

"She wears a pendant around her neck, and the only reason I remember was because she was always _twisting_ it."

"Now that you mention it, Dyl, she did do that a lot," April added.

"Guys, do you remember what it looked like," Sam pressed.

"It was silver," April recalled. "As far as the pattern, I never got close enough to see it well enough."

"Me neither, Sam."

As if reading each other's minds, all three rose at once and headed for the kitchen.

"Dad! Dad," Dylan said, running to his side. "We need to talk."

"We think we might have an idea what's goin' on," Sam said, taking a seat in front of him again.

Dean glanced up over Sam's shoulder and noticed April was hanging back, leaning her shoulder against the entryway to the kitchen. He just shook his head, knowing she was mad at him for what he did. Sam was sure Dean would blame himself for his daughter being pissed too.

"Ok, what's the big news," Dean asked, taking a sip of his third beer.

"Dad, did you notice anything odd about her necklace?"

"Who's? Hannah's?"

"Yeah, Dean. Anything weird…"

"Come to mention it, she was twisting it a lot tonight."

"Twisting?"

"Before we left the kitchen, she was twirling it or rubbin' it or something. That's - that's when everything started to go fuzzy -- oh crap."

"Dean, do you remember enough of it? Could you draw it?"

"I don't know, I could try I guess."

Sam nodded to Dylan who raced out of the room and reappeared a few minutes later with a notepad and pencil.

Dean sat at the table, drawing out what he could remember. Sam watched him draw a circle with two half circles on top, one on each side.

"Are you drawing Mickey Mouse or something," Dylan teased.

"Hey, lay off the drawing skills," Dean retorted.

He continued on with the symbol, adding some wavy lines in the center of the big circle.

"There," he said, putting down the pencil and rubbing his eyes. "That's all I can remember."

Sam pulled the paper of to himself and looked at I. Dylan peered over his shoulder, trying to decipher if it represented a particular culture.

"I don't know," Sam said. "I've never come across this one before -"

"I've seen it."

The three men at the table turned towards the petite, raven haired girl in the hallway.

"Where have you seen it, April," Sam asked.

She blurred up the stairs, coming back down at a high rate of speed with a small book in her hands. April strode over to the table, opening it up towards the back.

"Grandma drew a bunch of symbols she'd encountered during her hunting days," she said, still flipping. Her finger skimmed a page and stopped at the symbol second from the bottom. "There."

"The Three Moons of Hecate," Dean craned his neck to read.

"Hecate," Dylan said. "Now _that _I've heard of. She's associated with ancient Greek mythology."

"So what does that have to do with this," Sam pointed to the symbol. "Why would a twenty-something wear a pendant with this on it?"

"Maybe she was too stupid to know what it meant and thought it was pretty," April interjected.

"No, April, she was _using_ it," Dean said. "You don't think we're dealing with another Siren, do ya Sammy?"

Sam laughed as Dylan and April gave each other a weird, confused look. It was the first time they'd mentioned the whole siren case in front of the twins.

"Anything important we need to know about this Hecate," Dean turned towards Dylan.

"She was the goddess of sexual pleasure," Dylan said. All four stopped and looked at each other.

"Well she tried that much," Dean rolled his eyes. "What else?"

"I - I don't know too much more than that. We sorta skipped over her in my history class," he admitted.

April disappeared and reappeared with her laptop, pulling a chair up to the table. She slid three books out, hidden in her hands under the laptop, and threw one to each of the boys.

The four of them sat at the table, doing as much research on Hecate as they could, writing down notes as they went along.

"I think I found something," April said, her eyes skimming down a webpage. "Oh my God, listen to this. Apparently, Hecate had a tendency to cast spells on men and sexually seduce them and make them her slaves."

"Ok, so that's fits Hannah's intentions. Anything else?"

"Well, she had a huge cult following, as in an actual_ cult_ following her. She was known as Queen of Ghosts and as the goddess of sorcery. People used to use her statues to keep out evil spirits, but sometimes they would actually do the opposite and summon them."

"Maybe that's what happened to Hannah," Sam interjected. "Maybe she thought the symbol was good and it backfired?"

"Why would she wear it in the first place," Dean asked.

"Yeah, it's not like Hecate pendants are popular on campus," Dylan chuckled. "Wait. Wait. Hold the phone. She's the mistress of witchcraft. Maybe that's what Hannah is - maybe she's a practicing witch? I mean, would the symbol work for someone who didn't know how to activate it?"

"Probably not," Dean said, leaning across the table.

"Woah. _That's_ weird. Listen to this," Dylan said before reading a passage from the book in his hands. " '_Queen of Ghosts_ is a title associated with Hecate due to the belief that she can both prevent harm from leaving, but also allow harm to enter from the spirit world. Hecate thus has a role and special power in graveyards and at crossroads. She guards the "ways and paths that cross".'"

Sam noticed his brother stiffening across the table, the hair on the back of his own neck standing on end.

"What," April asked.

Dean and Sam looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

"Crossroads Demon."

"April, we're taking your car," Sam said, getting up and running to the door. Dean followed him down the ramp out the backdoor.

* * *

Abby sat at the bar, throwing back her sixth tequila shot. She didn't know where she was and she didn't care. All she knew was she had crossed the state line a while back, meaning _he_ was a state away…and it hurt more than she'd expected. She was breaking down, unable to drive, when she saw a roadhouse not far out of her way.

Through the haze of tears, she pulled into his dirt yard made up to be a parking lot. And, from the look of the amount of cars out front, the place was packed.

She had strolled in, not caring if the mascara under her eyes was smudged.

"Tequila," she ordered the bartender, handing him a one hundred dollar bill. He left her the bottle.

With the drink, her pain lessened little by little. Granted, it was only a temporary solution to her heartache, but all she cared was it was doing it's job for the time being.

She felt herself slipping deeper and deeper into a drunken stupor. Her vampire senses were picking up on something in the bar, but she was way too inebriated to gather her bearings enough to find what was causing the disturbance. All she knew was that when she turned around, a man was helping her walk to a nearby table. No, he wasn't a man. Underneath that mask, he was not even human.


	32. Confusion

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

"What the hell do you think you're doin," Dean said to the two kids sliding into the backseat, simultaneously slamming the doors behind them.

"Do you really think we're gonna let you two go after a demon alone," Dylan said.

"Huh, funny, but I can _swear_ we used to hunt alone before you two were born," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Get out."

"No," April spat. "Look, we're not leaving you two. Period. Don't fucking argue with me, Dad."

"Sam," Dean said to his brother. "Back me up."

"Kids, look," his brother started, "these demons aren't something you want to mess with."

"Uncle Sammy, I've tackled demons before. I think I can handle myself."

Dean hit his head against the head rest of the passenger seat in frustration. April and Abby were so much alike; they both never, _ever_ listened.

"When did you go hunt a demon," Dylan asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"It was with Aunt Jo, ok. And, before you start, NO, I didn't go alone," she directed at Dean.

"So, should we go," Sam asked.

"No, _they're_ gonna get out."

"No, we're not," April disagreed.

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"April, I'm your father and I'm telling you to get the hell outta the car!"

"Dad, you're even lucky I'm talking to you right now, ok?! Whether or not you can remember what you did, you should have recognized that Hannah was no good! Hell, everyone else did!"

Dean remained silent, his chest tightening at her stabbing words. The kid was right. He should have realized that Hannah was up to _something_. But, as they say, hindsight was always 20/20. Sure, all the signs were pointing towards the presence of something off, but he was so wrapped up in his own pain, apparently his hunting skills had suffered. If only he would have recognized what she was up to…actually, what was she up to? Her motivation, to that point, had seemed just to seduce Dean, but why go to such great lengths? Why with _witchcraft? _It was really fucking weird.

"So, what's a Crossroads Demon," Dylan asked his mentors. Sam glanced over at Dean, letting him know he had to be the one to tell his kids. It was clearly up to him what tell them and what to leave out. He wasn't sure if he wanted his children to know about _his _own dealings yet.

Dean explained to him the history of the demons and deals, relaying to them how even some famous people like blues legend, Robert Johnson, got caught up in the lore.

"This thing prays on vulnerable people; people who are ruled by obsession or grasping at straws," Dean said, turning his head to look at Dylan, who was listening intently.

"So, this girl may have summoned a demon for you," Dylan said.

"What if _she_ is the Crossroads Demon," April chimed in. "After all, she gave you your legs back for a moment."

"First off, no, I didn't roll off to summon one if that's what you're askin," Dean started. "Second, she would have offered me something in exchange for me getting my legs back. These demons, they may be bastards but they have strict rules when it comes to making deals."

"So, you think the girl made deal, Dean," Sam asked his brother, stealing brief glances as he drove. "Which means…"

"She had to have known the legend already. Either came across it in a supernatural book she pulled outta the library or -"

"Or she was already dealing with this kinda stuff," April suggested. "As in, she was already dealing with witchcraft-"

"But maybe her powers were too weak," Dylan interjected. "Maybe she already had the medallion but couldn't use it. Perhaps the Crossroads Demon made a deal for her to be a witch."

_'Just like Ruby…sorta,' _Dean thought. He could tell Sam was thinking the same thing.

"But, what I don't understand, is what do you have to trade to make a deal," Dylan asked.

Dean's eyes could see April in the rearview mirror; she was looking at him. She stared at him intently before he answered, almost pondering why he would -- _wait, did she know?_

"Your soul," she stated matter-of-factly, all the while keeping her eyes on Dean. "You have to sell them your _soul_, Dylan."

His own eyes reflected his daughter's in the mirror and what he saw hurt him. She stared at him with a look of disgust mingled with despair. April felt truly upset and betrayed, not only for what had transpired back at the house, but for what he did over ten years before.

"Ok, finally a dirt crossroad," Sam relayed, pulling the car over to the side of the road.

Wordlessly, April took the wheelchair out of the trunk and set up for her dad to get out of the car.

"Thanks," Dean nodded to April as he slid into his chair. She didn't say anything.

Sam bent down to the center of the road, sifting through the dry dirt until he found the metal box. He pulled it out, opening it up to see all the photos of those who had gone and dealt before, and who were inevitably burning in The Pit. His brother shuffled through his pocket, taking his license out of his wallet and placing it in the container before burying it again.

Not two seconds later, someone was walking behind them.

"Hi Sammy," a female voice purred. The four of the turned towards a woman, all dressed in black. She was casually playing with her hair, twirling it seductively between her fingers. "Sam Winchester, I never thought I'd see you again. What's it been…twelve years now?"

"I'm not here to deal."

"Huh, funny, I thought you were gonna ask for your brother's sea legs back," she said, kicking one of Dean's wheelchair tires.

"Go to Hell," Dean spat.

"Been there. It's rather nice. You remember, don' t you, Dean.? Oh, oops," she said, putting a hand over her mouth, trying to act shocked. "Oh, I forgot the kiddies are here. Oopsie." She smiled devilishly. "Did I let the cat outta the bag?"

April strolled right up to the demon with confidence. Unlike her brother, she did not show an ounce of fear standing in front of the bitch.

"Now, we've got some questions to ask you, and you better answer," April said.

"Ah, look at her. She's all grown up now," the demon smirked. "Little April Winchester. Last time I saw you, you were this tall. Now look at you, all grown up and a loser like your Dad. Such a pity. _You_ had potential."

April hissed at her foe and before Dean could blink, his daughter was behind the demon, holding her in place. She had a knife at the crossroad Demon's throat.

"Hey," Sam said, putting his hand on his back pocket searching for the weapon April had swiped.

"Sorry Uncle Sammy, I saw the opportunity so I had to borrow the knife. And, _missy_, I wouldn't move if I were you," April snarled, placing the blade closer to her flesh.

"Clever girl. It's Ruby's isn't it," the demon asked. April pushed it closer.

"Now, Dad," April said. "Don't you have something to ask?"

"Thanks, kid," he smiled with pride before addressing the demon. "Now, you stupid bitch, did you make a deal with a girl named Hannah recently?"

"Name doesn't ring a bell." April applied more pressure with the blade.

"Huh, funny," Dylan said, holding the open box in his hand. He held up a photo of the woman who once acted as Dean's nurse. "She's been here."

"OH, _her_. Yeah, I did. So," the demon spat.

"What did she want," Dean pressed.

"What every human wants. Power to possess what they desire. Problem was, she desired you. I could see why," the demon purred. He almost laughed as April rolled her eyes, kneeing the demon in the spine holding the ancient dagger so close to her throat, she'd soon draw blood.

"Was she a witch already," Sam asked.

"Yes, but a weak one. But, she did have a little power."

"How many years did she get," Dean demanded.

"Why do you care," she laughed. "You're back here top side _running_ around--oops, did I hurt your feelings, Deano?"

Dylan walked up to the demon and punched her in the face.

"You tell him what he wants to know, or so help me, I'll tear your neck apart myself," Dylan hissed.

Dean had never seen his children act in such manners before. Sure, they were both tough, and definitely had the gumption of a hunter. And yet, there was something in their eyes that scared him. It was as if they fit in _too_ well.

"TELL HIM!"

"I didn't take her soul, ok!?

"What," Dean said, rolling closer to her. "You didn't take anything?"

"N-O."

"She's gotta be lying," Sam said beside him. "Demons don't do that. There had to be some sorta catch."

The slight smile on her lips told him they were on the right track.

"What did you take?!"

"I'm not tell-ing," she replied in a sing-song voice.

"April-"

"Dean, you can torture me all you want, kill me and I'm still not gonna say a word."

She wasn't gonna squeal.

"Let's go," Sam ordered. April and Dylan weren't budging. "I said, let's go!"

April applied more force to the demon's throat, the blood trickling down her pale white skin. Dean could see his daughter's teeth lengthen under her lips.

"April, let's go," he said calmly. "Come on, hun. Ok?"

"No. She deserves to die."

"If it's any consolation, she's already dead. All demon's used to be human…except for maybe a couple. Now, come on. You too Dylan. We have to track down Hannah."

Dylan and April both looked at each other, and as if reading each other's minds, they dropped the demon, each left her with a hard kick to the side.

"Let's get outta here," Sam said, flashing his license with a smirk.

Dean got into the car and April folded up his chair and placed into the trunk. Once she had her door closed, Dean told Sam to roll.

They headed up the road, back towards the house in silence. He had hoped the kids hadn't picked up on the conversation between himself and the demon. But, he had a feeling he was gonna have a lot of explaining to do when it was all over.

However, at that exact moment, he couldn't get one particular thought out of his head.

"Sam, why would a demon deal for nothing? Something else is going on."

"Maybe you should give Bobby a call, see what he thinks. Maybe this isn't as abnormal as we think it is."

Dean pulled out his cellphone and pressed the number 3 on his phone's memory. He waited through the rings, hoping he'd pick up when he saw the name.

Finally, it clicked.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bobby! What's goin' on?"

"Boy, I'm retired," he yawned on the other line.

"Tired or re-tired," Dean joked.

"Both."

"We need your help with a demon issue," Dean said with deadly seriousness.

"You boys. I swear you're disaster magnets. Alright, what's the problem?"

"Hi Uncle Bobby," April yelled from the backseat.

"Dean, was that my dear niece I just heard?"

"Yep."

"So she knows everythin'?"

"Yep, the nephew too," Dean admitted.

"Boy…I'm gonna tan your hide," Bobby sighed.

"Bobby, dude, gross. But yeah, we really, really need your expertise on something."

"On what?"

"We need you to look up to see if any demon's made deals without taking anything in return."

"Sounds like a stretch. I've never heard of that before."

"I know. Me neither, but Bobby, something is going on," Dean said, talking softer into the phone. "And to tell you the truth, I think it might be something to do with me."

* * *

Abby sat down at the table, the man in front of her making her drink water. She was surprised the room was only spinning a little.

"Who are you," she asked.

"A family acquaintance," he muttered. "Just drink." He slid another glass in front of her.

The cool water soothed her throat, which was now dry and singed from the excessive amount of alcohol.

"You know," he whispered, leaning over the table towards her. "If you were human, you'd be dead from alcohol poisoning."

She choked on her water.

"Pardon?!"

He slid back his sleeve cuff, revealing the symbol of her nest on his wrist.

"You're my boss," he laughed. "It's kinda hard not to notice you."

"So you work for Lenore."

"I'm allied with you all, but I'm more of a freelancer, if you will. I'm affiliated with some other 'vegan' nest as well," he joked, smiling and revealing his canines. They were obviously sharper than the average humans.

"Well, it's nice to meet an ally," she said, offering him her hand. He took it in his own and kissed it. He was dark, mysterious, attractive and obviously had the genteel quality of another era. However, she couldn't read his thoughts. The man was obviously trained how to shield.

"Nice to finally make your acquaintance, Mrs. Winchester," he nodded.

"_Not for long_," she muttered softly to herself, chugging back the rest of the glass. "And it's nice to meet you...?"

"Wesley. You can just call me Wes."


	33. Circumstances

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the update delay. I've had this chapter done since Sunday and couldn't upload it til today. The login function for Fanfiction has been down since FRIDAY! But it's up now, so...yay!**

"Thank you, Wes for helping me get to a hotel," Abby slurred. She took one step in only to find herself falling having tripped over the threshold, seeing the floor coming at her fast. Then suddenly, she found herself completely stopped in mid-air.

"You really should watch your step," he whispered in her ear, his arm securely around her waist

She looked up at the handsome young man who held her. Although her vision was fuzzy, she could tell he was incredibly good looking. He had the typical ethereal beauty that all vampires seemed to have. It was necessary to attract your prey. They needed to be comfortable or be engrossed to the predator. It made it easier to hunt. As a vampire herself, she could see past the animal magnetism. Sure, he was _gorgeous_ and had beautiful dark, soul-searching eyes, but still…they weren't the soft green of grass during Indian summertime, with just that hint of warm, sunny gold….they were…not like _his_.

Her heart tightened at the thought.

"Are you alright," Wes asked, politely placing her back on her feet.

_'No,' _she thought, tripping her way over to the bed.

"Yes," she lied.

"Somehow I don't believe you," he drawled.

"I'll be fine. I-I'm apologize for my emotional purging at the bar."

"You don't have to apologize," Wes chuckled. "I was glad I could lend a sympathetic ear."

"Honestly, thank you for everything, Wes."

"Not a problem. I'm sorry to hear about your problems," he said. "I hope fortune finds you again, Abigail."

"Thanks," she mumbled, feeling herself falling asleep face down on the bed.

As she drifted off to bed, she felt herself being positioned more towards the middle of the mattress. Her shoes were removed before she felt a warm, soft blanket being thrown over her.

"Are you aware that you snore," her guest chuckled.

"Uh huh," she replied absently. "Dean always teased me for it."

How sad that everything in reference to Dean would always be past tense. Abby pulled her legs close to her chest, her body unintentionally trembling with emotion.

"I shall leave you alone," Wesley said from behind her across the room. His tone was so formal, she didn't need to raise her head to know that he did a bow in her direction. Part of her wanted to get up and curtsey in return since it was the polite response. It was incredibly odd having friends from times gone by.

"I don't want to be alone," she sobbed subconsciously in her sleep. "I can't be alone."

"Don't worry, you won't be alone. I can promise you that," he softly whispered. The door closed quietly behind him as he left.

As Abby let her sadness and exhaustion take her into a deep sleep.

* * *

Dylan sat in the backseat of the car next to his twin, cringing from her thoughts.

_'How could Dad do _that_ to us? To Mom? To Sam? Leaving us like that! Abandoning us when he fucking knew about all the evil out there!'_

First, he mused at how his sister's was the only mind he could actually read. Everyone else's mind just gave our emotion and tone. His sister's words were clear as a bell.

He thought about her tirade wondered if she meant what he did the evening, or whatever the demon was talking about. It was obvious the demonic entity had a history with his father and uncle. Perhaps the most curious thing about it was they knew how to summon it and still didn't destroy it when they had the chance. Hell, he was about to grab the knife from his sister and kill the bitch himself. She was clearly manipulating the emotions of people caught on hard times, collecting their souls as payments for temporary solutions. As it always was in human lives, other hardships would always inevitably pop up to ruin any change at 'normalcy.'

"Aren't you comin' in," April asked, peeking her head back in car.

Dylan snapped out of his thoughts only to find himself home. He was apparently the only left that hadn't headed towards the house.

"You ok," he asked April, catching up to her on the steps.

"I don't know," she said matter-of-factly. "I think I will be. Maybe. I just - we've gotta get some answers."

Dylan took her hand and the two walked together, readying themselves to face anything their family had throw at them. They entered the house to find their father and uncle already arguing in the living room.

"What are we supposed to do, Sammy? Just spill the beans," Dean fiercely whispered.

"Well didn't the demon already do that much? Come on, Dean, April has to know something if she's been out hunting around. We're both kinda...legends I guess."

"Legends," Dean scoffed. "What the hell are we legends for?"

"I can tell you the rumors," April interjected, drawing Dylan's attention. Her eyes were distant but her voice trembled. Something inside him told him that she was trying everything within herself to hold back her anger. As she rushed into the living room, he ran after her, taking a hold of her hand. He calmly lead her over the couch.

"Take a seat, sis," he suggested as she plopped down on the sofa. Dylan took a seat beside her. "Now, what the heck are you talking about?"

"There's rumors, Dyl. Rumors about our family, about _us_."

"Us?"

Dylan could see his father stiffen across the room, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Sam on the other hand, looked immensely worried and almost sad. He pushed his mind out to his uncle and could feel the emotions radiating off of them. Sam wasn't just sad, he was _terrified_...but of what?

"So, kid, tell us what you know," Dean asked April. "Or, tell us what you _think _you know." He crossed his arms over his chest.

April looked their dad square in the eye as she relayed the information she had received from hunting. She knew their family was involved with some demon hunt that spanned decades. They supposedly had gotten their guy and defeated him. Every demon known to man or otherwise seemed to recalled that it was Dean Winchester with the mythical Colt in the Wyoming cemetery.

"Well, that much is true," Dean said. He went into more detail about Azazel, the Yellow-Eyed Demon that his father had hunted; the one responsible for Dyl's grandmother's death.

"Was he the one Grams mentioned in her diary? The one who killed her parents," April asked. Dean nodded in response.

"Yep, same ole' fucker."

"Then there's more gossip," April started, her hands almost crushing her brother's. "There are insane stories almost like urban legends in the hunting community."

"Like what," Dylan chuckled. "Dad and Sam are celebrities now?"

"_And _Mom," she said, looking him straight in the eye. "And apparently, _us_ too. That demon _recognized _us, Dyl. She knew my name and knew me as a kid. Why would she know that." This time, she turned her attention back to her father. "Why?"

With a sigh, Dean tilted his head against the back of the chair and began the story. Dylan could tell by the look on his face, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, he didn't want to tell it. Hell, Sam didn't look like he wanted to be in the room at all.

"We were like you guys used to be, ya know," Dean started. "We - we lived normal, apple pie lives. All that changed November 2nd, 1983..."

* * *

April's mind spun as she tried to process the information that she had just got from her father. She couldn't look at anyone in the room.

So everyone had been right; her dad had sold his soul to save his brother...and left them behind. Her blood was boiling.

And there was more. Sure her dad had come back by some sorta miracle, but her uncle, well he just went bat-shit crazy. He had demon blood in him; goddamned demon blood. On top of everything, their mom had been with Sam while Dean was in hell. Weird, but she did have a vague memory of him being around a lot when she was little. But still, how could her mom? More importantly, how could Sam? He even knew her dad was back!

As if he knew what she was feeling, Dylan reached over and grabbed a hold of her hand, squeezing in his own. She looked up into her brothers dark, midnight eyes and saw they were saddened; defeated.

"So, that's it," Dean ended. "And here we are." He turned to look at Sam who refused to meet his gaze. "Come on, Sammy. It's old news to us, right?" He patted his brother on the shoulder.

"It's new to them," Sam said, nodding in the direction of his niece and nephew. "Now they know what I did, who I hurt."

_'Hurt,' _April hotly thought. _'You did more than hurt, Sammy.'_

"Calm down," Dylan whispered. That happened to be the straw to break the camel's back.

"Are you calm, Dyl, after hearing everything Dad just said?! Can you honestly say you're ok?"

"No, I can't, April. I can't t all," he said, pulling his hand away from hers. "I mean, we just found out that...Dad- OUR Dad was in Hell," he said like a question. "Man, I'm sorry." Dean and his son gaze met with understanding.

"You're sorry? He didn't have to go, Dyl! He had a choice! He choose to leave us!"

"That's not fair, April. I didn't even know you existed yet," Dean said.

"Would it have made a difference, Dad?"

"You sound exactly like your mother," he said, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What would you have done, A.C.," Dylan asked. "Would you have let me die? Not brought me back or Jamie?"

"Ye…I don't know," she hesitated before coming to her stance. "Yes, because that's death! It happens, Dyl! I'm sorry but I can't condone what he did." She started to pace, feeling her muscles twitching with anger. She hit a clenched fist against the wall, putting a nice hole in the drywall. "I can't believe Sam was the one who had to tell mom about your deal! That is so fucked up!"

"Just as fucked up that she told me she was pregnant instead of telling Dean, April? That was pretty screwed up from her end too," Sam chimed in.

"Oh, and _you_," she snarled at Sam. "_You_. I knew you went all bad-side, but still. _You_ put us in danger, didn't you?! DIDN'T YOU?!"

"What are you talking about," Dean asked, rolling his chair between the two. April almost laughed. It wouldn't do any good if she got a hold of Sam.

"I have a vivid memory of being somewhere very hot, with canyons, like we were away, Dyl and I on vacation…only Sam and Ruby were the only two there…oh my god…Ruby too?"

"Now that you mention it April, I recall that too," Dylan looked up at her, astonished at his memory. "I always thought we just went to the Grand-"

"Canyon," she finished her brother's sentence. "Oh no. There's something I clearly remember now that I've been hunting." She took three paces towards Sam, her face inches from his own. "I remember the distinct smell of _sulfur_."

Sam's lip twitched and he backed away, walking to the other room with his head in his hands. April went to follow with Dylan close behind. Dean swerved around and blocked their way.

"That's enough," he commanded. "Leave him alone."

April went to move around him. She was stopped by Dean, his arm squeezing her lower arm.

"That's. Enough."

April pulled her hand back.

"He led us into HELL, Dad!"

"How is that possible," Dylan asked, quite befuddled by his own memories. "I remember being there now, but why aren't we dead?"

"Because you're part vampire and you could survive it. But you need to leave him alone," Dean ordered.

"WHY," April wailed.

"Because he doesn't remember a damned thing, April, that's why!"

"Wh-what," Dylan stuttered.

Dean explained that as Azazel's blood took over him, Sam lost himself. When he finally came to after the final battle, Sam didn't recall anything that he had did. It was only through Ruby that he found out his atrocities.

"Listen, I wish I could take back everything that happened to you both…God only knows that I wish I could pull all that outta you-," he stopped, choking on his words.

"Dad, you came after us," Dylan said. "You tried to rescue us. Mom too."

"We did, Dyl. We did our best. That's all we can do as parents," Dean sighed.

"As hunters," April started. "Even your best can get people killed."

"True," Dean said, moving to her side. "I won't argue with that. But you're here, right?"

She rolled her eyes. April pivoted around and ran upstairs to her room. Her bag was already on the bed and she emptied out its contents on the floor. There were several footfalls on the stairs as she packed.

"April," Dylan knocked on the door. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving," she said, stuffing some clothes in her bag.

"Leaving for where," Sam asked.

"What do you care, _Sam_?"

"You're still my niece."

"Shoulda thought about that before you dragged me from my family in the night, right _Uncle_."

She pushed her way between the two men, only to find her father in the way of the door.

"April, don't leave like this," he said, his eyes sincere. "Come on, you and I know it's fucked up, but we can get over it. I did. I never thought I'd forgive Sam for some - look but I did, alright? I understand now. And I know how you feel, kid. You're angry. You wanna go punch something? You're like--me."

"I just wanna get outta here for a little while, Dad," she said with tears in her eyes.

"Not like I can stop you," he sighed.

She bent down and kissed his cheek before running out to her car. There was only one thing on her mind; she had to find her mom.


	34. Jump In The Fire

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** klandgraf2007 asked in one of the reviews about the other characters in the Mission Logo I created. I think the front ones are obvious. The back ones in the bluish hues from Left to Right are Jo (I choose an older character to play Jo than the one originally on the show), Becky, Wes and Jesse. I have new art, character profiles, that I'm creating. They should be up sometime soon. By the way, thanks for all the reviews everyone! It really motivates me to keep going! We're almost to the end of this story. I already have the outline for the next two done! Thanks to everyone for following my stories. It's pretty awesome. :-)

_

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_

It had been three weeks since both Abby & April had taken off, and Dean was stuck at home to contemplate his next move. Despite several road trips and leads, they had been unable to track down Hannah. It was if she never existed. They had gone to investigate her apartment just to find it empty. No record of parents. No record of previous or forwarding addresses. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

He was sitting on the front porch, his eldest son next to him on the porch swing, both with beer in hand. It was a quiet evening although it wasn't quiet earlier. Sam had come over in the early afternoon to talk about the 'Jamie Situation.' Jamie had been at the other Winchester residence since his mother had left. Abby had sent him a laptop and webcam in the mail as a gift and had been communicating with her son via the web. Of course, she always made sure that no one else was in the room and, when Sam did take a peek at the screen, Abby was always in front of a blank wall with no distinguishing characteristics of a building to track her down. Recently, Dean thought it would be better to have Jamie back home, not only for Jamie, but for himself. He needed his son.

"Look, I think it's best I keep him for a while longer," Sam had argued. "What Jamie needs now more than ever is stability."

"I'm frickin' stable, Sam. I think he needs to come home. All his stuff is here and I can make sure he gets off to school."

"I don't think it's right, Dean," his brother rebutted, putting his arms across his chest, his lips taut. "And I think I have a say."

"Oh yeah, why'd you think that," Dean said, rolling closer to his brother.

Sam leaned close to him and said the words Dean never thought he'd have the balls to mutter.

"Because he's my son," Sam said without thinking.

It was only then that Dean had realized Dylan was standing in the hallway between the living and dining rooms, his hand clenching the banister. From the look on his face, he had heard everything. His own chest tightened and his heart sank as he watched Dylan turn around and walk up to his room.

Sam had left quickly after that, most likely embarrassed by the slipup. Seemed to be way the way things had been goin' recently. Everyone had been eating their words. In fact, April had called and apologized to him and Sam after hooking up with her mom. He figured Abby told her too, although he had to admit it sounded heartfelt. But, like himself, she was a good liar. Mark of a good hunter. Main thing was, she was well and with her mother hunting. That was good, he guessed.

As for Dylan, Dean made sure to sit him down after his own brother left and laid everything out on the table. No more excuses. No more lies. There was no point in coming up with more stories or alibis. He told him point blank what evil Yellowed-Eyed Sam had done to his mother, but he made sure to emphasize that Sam, _Dylan's Uncle Sammy_, the one he had grown to adore as a kid, had absolutely no control when the demon took over. And, that Sam still had no recollection of doing it.

"Your Mom came to me after it happened and we vowed to keep the kid away from him. So I had to keep all four of you safe."

"So evil-Sam _knew_ she was pregnant?"

"Yep. It was part of his plan; a demon kid with vampire strength ," he paused, registering the look of worry on his son's face. "He's not a demon, if that's what you're thinking. The plan failed. He's a normal boy, although all young boys are a little squirrelly to begin with. Huh."

"What Dad," Dylan asked, leaning in the chair, rolling the cold bottle in his hands.

"It's just, your Mom almost died during Jamie's delivery. We had a big fight a while before it-- sorta like what we're goin' through now -- and I left. I hit the road and did my damnedest to find Sam and you two, to fix things. Your Mom was back in a cabin with Castiel protecting her. I had gotten a horrible message from her that almost sounded like a goodbye. So, I gunned it back to her. The pissy words we had said to each other kinda vanished. They didn't matter. I just knew I had to get to her," he smiled, glancing down to the wooden porch. "The doctor was already working on her. The tub was filled with blood. She was purple and blue, I'm telling' ya man, her skin was white. I was scared shitless."

"That's awful."

"A few minutes later, a baby cried and I couldn't help but be happy. Above anything, she'd want the little one to survive. Dyl, from the moment I held that kid, I knew it was _my _job to keep him safe. Sammy knew too. He told me after everything went down that I was the right person to raise Jamie; not him. So, that's what we did. And I don't care what Sammy says, I'm Jamie's father. He knows that too. He just let that slip because he's worried and frustrated."

"So, you don't look at Jamie differently," Dylan asked, taking a swig of beer.

"Nah. He's my boy. My upbeat, goofy, too-bubbly-for-his-own-good son. I don't love him any less because of things that happened out of his control. Hell, at the time, it was out of everyone's control."

Dean turned and saw his son smirking at him, and watched as he raised his beer bottle to him.

"By the way, I'm keeping this under my hat. You have my word," Dylan smiled. "This would be too much for the other two. Jamie is too young and he loves you. And April is too…let's face it unstable, emotional, you name it. But, I just want you to know _I _understand why you all did what you did. And you know what, you're a good man, Dad."

"Thanks, Son," he smiled. "Sometimes I don't feel like it though."

"That's just a genetic Winchester trait. Never feelin' good enough."

"Do you ever feel that way," Dean asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Dylan said, peeling the label from the beer. "Recently I guess. I feel torn..."

"How so?"

"Between college and hunting."

_'Huh, that sounds familiar,' _Dean thought.

"Dyl, I suggest you talk to Sam. He had the same issues, he'll have more of an opinion. Not that I wanted huntin' to be my whole life, but I never wanted to go to school."

"Never?"

"Nah. The classroom wasn't for me, kid. Not. At. all," Dean smiled. "But, I'll say this much. What we did, as hunters, is not easy for anyone. It puts everyone you know and are close to in danger. I kept away from getting myself involved with people because of that."

"Until you met Mom, right? Makes sense. She was already involved in it...and I'm pretty sure she could take care of herself."

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "You don't wanna get in a fight with your mom. She'll mess you up."

His smile faded as he thought of his wife.

"You miss Mom?"

"Yeah, I do," he sighed, trying to cover up any emotion. "She's my girl." He cleared his throat before changing the subject. He didn't think he could hold it together to talk about Abby anymore. "So, speaking of girls, how's yours?"

Dean could tell by his son's smile that it was going not just good but great. He gushed over how cool she was.

"I love her, Dad."

"Wow. Strong words," he chugged back his brew. "I hope you're not just tossin' them around. That can really screw a chick up."

"No, I mean it. She's - she's everything."

Dean knew how he felt. He patted his son's shoulder, happy that he was happy. Deep down, he hoped it would be again too.

* * *

The demon held her mom by the throat, squeezing as hard as she could. The blood vessel's in her mom's eyes were popping.

April stabbed a demon down with Ruby's knife. She managed to swipe it from Sam's pocket again before she left the house almost a month prior.

Fuck. There were five more…and her mom needed her help.

"Give it up, Abigail," the demon holding her sneered.

_'Mom, what are you doing,' _she thought, hoping her mom could pick up on her mind. _'Just kick him away!'_

Her mom didn't. She struggled in his harsh grip, continuing on with the Latin chant, her voice becoming weaker and weaker.

April ripped and slashed her way through the slew of demons, her vampire senses coming in handy with beings who could move as fast as she could.

_'Come on, April,' _she thought to herself. _'Get to Mom. Get to Mom.'_

By the time she got to the last demon, Abby was practically lifeless in the demon's hand, the demon himself frozen and twitching from the scripture being recited. Finally, with two finals words, the demon dropped her and grasped his neck as the black smoke rose from his throat.

"Mom! Mom, are you ok," April said.

"Never better," she said sitting up, her voice gravely.

"Damnit Mom, I thought you said you were going to be more careful," she chided.

"I had to close enough to him to put some of that elixir on him, April. What, it wasn't that close," her mother winked.

"That's it," April said, throwing down Ruby's knife. "Mom, I've had enough!"

"What," Abby said, straightening out her dress, staring down at the bloodstains.

"You're completely reckless and it's not only affecting you but me. I can't concentrate on me when I'm focusing on you…and vice versa!"

"Oh come on," she laughed. "_You're_ telling _me_ how to hunt! That's laughable!"

Abby walked away from the grisly scene. Angered by her mom's comments, April ran ahead of her, turning around and walking backwards to her Mustang.

"Mom, screw you," she said. That stopped her mom dead in her tracks, a dangerous glint in her eye.

"Watch yourself," Abby purred.

"Take your own advice, Mom," she growled. Her mom hissed. "I don't wanna fight you. I just can't stand watching you be so self-destructive."

"What do you mean," Abby asked innocently, as if she didn't know.

"In our last three hunts, you've almost got ganked _three times_. You keep putting yourself up as bait. I can see it. I'm not dumb. On top of that, I can see from your skin and the way you smell that you've been breaking your code. You've been tasting the human cuisine in each city, and I don't mean in restaurants."

"Well, I did get _some_ in restaurants."

"After all you told me, after you were so…God, I can't stand it anymore. I'm going home."

"Fine," Abby said, turning to leave. "Go home. I don't need a partner anyways."

That hurt.

"Well _I_ need a _Mother_," she teared up. "And so does Dylan and Jamie! When you decide to come back to us as the Mom we knew, come home. I love you."

She started sobbing as soon her hands gripped the steering wheel, leaving her mom in the dust behind her.


	35. We're Ready

Disclaimer_: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/05/09. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes._

Sam sat on the porch with Dean and Castiel, watching Jamie play a game of catch with his older brother in front of the house.

"Get ready, Dyl, I'm gonna throw it hard," Jamie said, tossing it at Dylan.

"Good pitch. You got an arm, bro," Dylan smiled, tossing the ball softly to his kid brother.

Sam still couldn't believe how big the kids were, but every time he saw them together playing, he was reminded that in actuality, they were only about two years apart in age. It was only because of _him _that Dyl and April grew up so quickly. Too fast.

Sensing his uncle's distress, Dylan turned towards him and gave him a concerned look. Since he began to use his powers again, Dylan had shown himself to be a pretty powerful empath.

"It's alright," he mouthed to his nephew. As Dylan was looking at him, he didn't realize Jamie had wailed a ball in his direction. It hit his cheekbone with a thud. He yelped in pain and covered his face with his hand.

"Dude, are you ok," Dean leaned forward and yelled as Sammy was making his way down the steps. Jamie was already at his side, his face half-covered by his glove, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I'm fine," Dylan grunted, shrugging Sam's hand off his shoulder.

"Let me see," Sam asked.

"Come on," he rolled his eyes. "How old am I?"

"Still old enough to break your cheekbone. Now let me see," Sam said. Dylan heaved a sigh and revealed a very swollen cheek.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Jamie chattered about to break into tears at any second.

Dylan smiled and knelt beside his little brother, reassuring him he'd be ok and that it wasn't his fault.

"You should put some ice on that," Dean yelled from the porch.

"Come on," Dylan said, pulling down Jamie's cap and giving him a noogie.

"Hey!"

"How about me, you and some Wii Bowling while I ice my face?"

"Ok," he excitedly said, running up the steps. Dylan followed quickly behind.

"Hey," Dean said, gesturing for him to come closer. "Really, put some ice on it or it'll swell more, alright." His son answered with a mocking salute. "Oh, and Dyl, please for the love of all that's holy, make sure the boy uses the straps on the controllers? I don't wanna have to buy another TV. Again."

"I will, Dad," Dylan patted his dad's shoulder before disappearing into the house.

"Kids," Dean said, rolling his eyes before taking a drink of beer.

"You really are doing a good job, Dean," Cas smiled. "Honestly, they seem relatively unaffected."

"Two outta three ain't bad," his brother smiled.

"April still with her mother," Cas asked.

"From what we know, yeah," Sam said. "We haven't heard from her in a while."

Sam knew it hurt Dean to have both of his girls gone at once, especially not knowing what condition they were in. He prayed to God they were ok. However, Sam had a sinking suspicion that Abby wasn't. It was just from seeing her on the web chats with Jamie. She looked...different. Her presence was somehow off. Her skin was, if it was possible, paler, the dark black of her eyes emphasized by purple circles and, the way she moved and smiled, it reminded him of his very first vampire hunt.

"It'll all work out," Cas smiled at the Winchesters.

"Speaking of working out, you and Gwen, huh," Sam smiled and Dean elbowed him.

Castiel just shrugged, his face slightly red with embarrassment.

"I think it's time for you to settle down," Dean said. "How many millennia has it been? Are you still a virgin?"

"Very funny, Dean," Castiel joked. Dean turned and stared at him with wide eyes.

"Dude, you're still a - ? Oh man. Well, good luck," Dean raised his glass. "And let me tell you, vampires are a rough first time." Sam laughed.

"Dean, cut it out," he scolded his brother. "Leave him alone. Not all of us lost our virginity's when we were like 14, ok?"

"Thank you, Sam." Cas smiled.

"Hey I got nothing against em'. In fact, I pray to god my oldest kids still are," Dean said. Cas and Sam looked at him, shocked. "What," he said, shrugging. "I'm not a horny teenager anymore. I can see past that. I just hope they do too. Abby was the one who had 'the talk' with them so it probably went better than it would have with me telling em' stuff. Don't think I was that great of a role model."

"From what I remember," Cas leaned over and smiled. "You made some hasty decisions, but you were a good kid, Dean."

"Thanks, dude."

"Huh," Sam chuckled. "Who would have thought that all three of would be sitting here now? If we went back eleven years I mean." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"I thought we were all royally screwed, so I wouldn't be one of those. I'm not really an optimist."

"Yeah," Sam sighed. He looked up and saw a red Mustang hurriedly coming up the road.

"Everybody sees that car, right? I'm not drunk-hallucinating, right," Dean slurred, rubbing his eyes.

"No, that's a car, Dean. It looks like it's your daughter's," Cas said, moving to sit on the railing of the porch.

She gunned the engine once more before slamming on the brakes and storming out of the car.

"April," Dean asked, moving across the porch to the ramp. "April, sweetie, are you ok?"

She paced in front of the house, her arms folded across her chest, her fists clenched tight. Her face was dirty with a combination of mud and what appeared to be dried blood. April's hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing healing cuts and scratches on her neck. Funny, but she looked like Abby's twin at that moment.

"April," her father pressed. "Talk to me? What's goin on?"

His request was met with silence.

"Hun, you're scarin' me. Tell me what's goin' on? Is - is it your mom?"

She rolled her eyes and kicked the car door, leaving a dent with her boots. The girl was officially pissed.

"Mom's not_ fine_, Dad."

Sam's heart dropped.

"Is - is she-," Sam struggled to get out.

"She's not dead, if that's what you're askin," April snapped. "I tried to talk some sense into her but she won't fucking LISTEN!" She kicked her car again, this time knocking the side mirror clear off.

"What are you sayin'," Dean asked again. "What's wrong with her?"

"She won't listen to me! Dad, she's trying to get herself killed," she said pacing, explaining her mother's habit of facing death to the three men. "You guys, she almost died the other day…and she fucking didn't care! But we have a bigger problem than the death defying. Dad, she's back to basics."

"Meaning?"

"She's downin' human."

"Are you sure," Sam pressed, walking closer to her. "You're positive."

"Not only is she swipin' bags from hospitals but she's used live human donors. Seduce and drink from them then fog their mind so they don't remember anything. She's stronger than I've ever seen her."

That would explain Sam's initial reaction to seeing her again on the computer.

"But, there's more. Her nest doesn't know about her habit yet, but once they find out - "

"They'll kill her," Dean stoically said.

"Dad, she won't stop for me!"

"You have to make her understand, April," Dean said. "_Please._ Go back to her."

"No, _YOU_ make her understand. _You're_ the only one who can get across to her, Dad!"

"She won't see me, hun."

"Make her see you! For God's sake at least _try! If you tried anything anymore you'd be better, Dad!"_

April stormed off to the garage with determination. It was less than a minute later they heard the distinct roar of a car engine. Not just any roar, but a very familiar purr.

"My baby," Dean sat up straighter, craning his neck to look.

The Impala never looked better. It was put back together in one piece, the black paint shining in the late afternoon sunlight, her chrome glinting brilliantly. Sam literally thought Dean was gonna pass out when he saw her.

April parked it right in front of her father, leaving the driver's door open.

"April, you - you," Dean stuttered, rolling around the car to get a good look at her from all sides.

"Yeah, I did. Took me a few months to get her the way you'd like her. Plus I added this," she said, leaning in and showing the new mechanism she had installed. It was so handicapped people could drive. "But you know what I realized, Dad. This is just a crutch." She said, rubbing the new device. "Treating you like this lets you stay this way. I know you, Dad. You're covering everything up by being an alchy, drinkin' to try to block out that your wife is gone and your life has turned to shit. We're gonna get you off your ass, Dean." Then, with out warning, she tore the new driving device out of the vehicle and tossed it aside.

The three men collectively gasped.

"I thought it was douching up your car anyways. I'm gonna fix her the way she used to be."

"But - my car," Dean yelled. "What the fuck?! I mean, don't get me wrong, I love her…but what the fuck?! I didn't even get a chance to drive her yet! You're a goddamn tease!"

"Dad, I'm not teasing. Ya know why? I'm gonna stay here and help you to walk again."

"That's funny," he smirked.

"I'm not joking," she said with deadly seriousness. "I just think your muscles are weak. Nothin's wrong with your spine, Dad. I have faith in that. Me and you, we're gonna work out everyday until you take those steps again. And when you do, we're gonna work out so you're back in hunter shape."

"What, then you want me to go hunting again? Get banged up? I think I'm retired, April."

"No," she said, leaning down in front of his chair. "You're gonna get in the Impala and go after Mom. Then you're gonna make her listen to you. You're gonna bring her back to us, Dad. Then, if you wanna retire gracefully, go ahead. Consider this your last case."

April squeezed his hand.

"I have faith in _you_, Dad. You'll do it."

Dean didn't answer but Sam noticed the mark of determination he once had return and he smirked up to his daughter, squeezing her hand.

"We've got work to do."

THE END.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well that's it for "Mission." Thanks to everyone who's been reading and keep up with the saga. I really appreciate all the reviews! You're all awesome. I'vewrittena little tease for the first chapter of the next book....so if you're interested in a sneek peak, keep reading! :-)

I'll be gone for a few days, so I won't be able to upload anything, but I'll be finishing a few chapters while I'm away, so look for the new story sometime next week! Thanks again!

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Chapter 1 excerpt:

It hadn't quite worked out the way she planned it. Instead of conquering the beast, he had his teeth in her throat, draining her life.

It was ok with her, although she would miss so much. Her friends. Her family. God, her children. And then there was him. Yes, no matter what, she'd miss him and wish him well. Nothin' but happiness.

She instinctively struggled in his tight grasp and that only made the pain worse. His canines tore her hard flesh, the blood slightly spurting from her neck. Funny how no one else in the bar realized a woman was dying in the back corner. They were either too drunk or probably thought it was just a couple making out in a dark hideout.

Purple splotches appeared in front of her eyes and everything suddenly sounded as if it were underwater.

_'Soon,'_ she thought. _'Soon the pain would stop.'_

Her mind was starting to falter, the world becoming too chaotic to pay attention to.

As she faded away, the atmosphere in the room changed. There was something angry there. No, not angry, completely, fucking furious.

Its rage swept over her mind like a tidal wave down to her very core. It was primal, malevolent...and getting closer.

Her body slumped in the booth as the vampire continued to suck her dry, but she couldn't concentrate on that; oh no, not with the amount of tension racing forward.

No matter how hard she tried, her eyes closed. Abby's body was shutting down. The last thing she heard before she slipped in the darkness was a voice. A voice that she recognized. A voice that was filled with deadly determination.

"Get your hands off my wife, you sonofabitch."

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	36. Sequel is up!

Sequel is Up!

The title is "Prelude," and the ID number is 4909360.

You can also find it via my profile.

Thanks!


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